Dark Element
by Ruse
Summary: COMPLETE: A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. Beckett, Shep and McKay whumpin.
1. My Best Excesses

**Dark Element - by Angel Ruse**  
My Best Excesses

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. The team is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

The mouth-watering scent was enough to drive a man crazy. Sheppard, Beckett and Zelenka waited in expectation at a table in the otherwise empty mess hall. The lights were set dim and the atmosphere was relaxed. Just perfect for tired Lanteans after a rough week. Sheppard kicked his feet up on one of the chairs nearby, leaned back lazily, and yelled, "Come on, Rodney! Get the lead out. I'm starved!" He shook his head. "For a physicist you'd think he could handle the physics of a chicken a little faster." 

"I heard that!" called an annoyed voice from the kitchenette. There was a clamor of pans and plates. "You can't rush genius!"

Zelenka pushed his glasses up on his nose, then lifted a disagreeing finger. "I beg to differ, Rodney. I have both seen and endured genius being rushed. More times than I would care to count, as a matter of fact."

"Shut up, Radek!" McKay yelled back at him.

After a few more minutes of waiting, listening to the rustle of kitchen tools being tossed around, and a few curses coming from the other side of the room, Rodney McKay finally made his grand entrance. Carrying plates with utensils on them, a basket of chicken, and a bottle of barbecue sauce was delicate business, so it was a rather anticlimactic moment.

Until he nearly tripped. The trio at the table stood, but all three of them froze in horror until McKay got his footing back. He made it to the table without dropping anything, however, and everyone sighed in relief as he placed his bounty down.

They each took a plate and a piece of chicken from the basket Rodney had placed in the center of the table. McKay reclaimed the cup he had been drinking from that he had left beside Sheppard, then sat down and watched with an eager expression as the other three prepared to partake.

Sheppard exhaled as both Radek and Carson looked to him for a reaction first. "Guess I'm the guinea pig, huh?" he said a little smartly, then lifted the chicken to his mouth. He took a bite and immediately started coughing. Putting the breast down on his plate, John rushed his iced tea to his lips and gulped. Radek put his chicken wing down.

"Well?" Rodney pressed, hovering between taking a bite of his own portion and waiting for the verdict.

Through misty eyes Sheppard looked at the scientist and said in a strained voice, "D'you think it's a bit spicy?"

McKay shrugged. "Of course it's spicy. I told you it would be."

"Let me rephrase," John retorted, then took another drink. "D'you think it's a bit _too_ spicy?"

The other man's eyes narrowed to slits. "Well, excuse me, Colonel Sanders, for getting it wrong. I'll make your little old grandma's wussy chicken next time."

Sheppard pointed him in the face with a warning expression. "Don't talk about my grandma. I didn't say I didn't like it. It's just a bit strong."

Rodney didn't stop glaring until he turned his head towards Carson. And then it was like magic, such was the pleasure that replaced his ire. Both Sheppard and Zelenka followed his gaze. The doctor was found quite merrily biting into his chicken thigh. "See?" McKay defended his meal. "Carson likes it, don't you?"

Beckett nodded with a full mouth. "Aye. S'good stuff." He took another rigorous bite.

"I guess it's really just a man's chicken," McKay summarized for Sheppard, motioning Radek to try it. The Czech scientist wore the expression of a trapped rabbit.

The Colonel pointed at Carson defensively. "Look, just because he'll eat anything doesn't mean I'm not a man. You know what Scottish people eat. Black Pudding. Need I say more?"

"I'm sittin' right here, lad," the doctor admonished sternly as he reached into the basket for another piece.

"Wimp." McKay rolled his eyes and said nothing more than that single taunt.

Sheppard glared, quipping back at him, "Geek."

"Monkey-with-a-gun."

"Celibate."

McKay lifted his fork as if he was going to toss it like a dagger at the Colonel, but Beckett took the utensil away from him. He sat back, rubbing his face tiredly. "Lord, I can see what tomorrow's trip is goin' ta be like. I'm not ready."

"I'd say you could stay home, but see you've already missed a few times this semester," Sheppard said with a smirk. "Seriously, Doc, if there are any medicines there or any tools we could use…"

The doctor waved his hand. "S'alright, lad. This place looks interestin', anyway. I'll be fine." The truth was Beckett hadn't been sleeping well. He had confessed as much to Sheppard earlier in the week, but maintained it was nothing, reasoning he just had to stretch his legs a bit. He had been cooped up in the infirmary as it was.

John took another bite—a tentative bite—of his chicken and seemed to make a point of not coughing as the spices seared his tongue. Radek was still a bit shy of his wing and tried to shift the attention away from that fact. He shook his head. "You guys get all the fun. So, what is this place you're going to tomorrow, anyway?"

"We're not entirely certain," McKay responded, sneaking his fork off Beckett's plate so he could tear back into his chicken. "The database lists this place, but details are sketchy. Said something about it being an outpost of science that was abandoned when the Wraith started becoming a real problem for the Ancients. My guess is we'll find some Ancient technology and more importantly, a Zed-PM."

Zelenka took a drink. "How did it come to your attention now and not months ago?"

Rodney snapped his fingers. "Darnedest thing. Just jumped out at Carson here when I was looking and he was looking over my shoulder." His voice betrayed irritation about that. "Lucky thing, too. I'm hopeful about this one."

"Assumin' someone else hasn't gotten there first," Carson added thoughtfully. "Or the Wraith haven't destroyed it."

Rodney shook a chiding finger at the doctor. "See, this is why you have trouble sleeping. Always looking at the dark side of things and worrying. Knock it off."

"I 'spose you're right, Rodney. Maybe you'll be kidnapped an' I won't have ta worry about your cheek anymore," Carson responded, yawning into his hand. He sighed, noticing Sheppard watching him. "I'm fine."

The Colonel nodded, arms lifted in deference. "All right. I'm just saying, Doc, if you need me to hit you over the head to get you to sleep at night, I'll be more than glad." He pushed his chair back, stood and grabbed a drumstick out of the basket. "Be right back." Chicken in mouth, he took his empty glass to go get more tea.

The four men polished off the basket before too long, and by the end of it Carson was the first to bend over with his arms cradling his midsection. "I think ya gave me an ulcer," he complained in a pained voice.

Licking his fingers, Rodney nodded with a grin. "That's how I know I got it right. Well, that and the fact that I'm never wrong."

"When did you become such a," Radek said, then hiccupped loudly, "distinguished cook?"

McKay shrugged. "It's nothing that being single and brilliant can't get you."

"Or, you know…" John trailed off and twirled his finger around his ear, then laughed as McKay threw a balled up napkin. He yawned as he pushed his chair back. "Good night. If I die, gentlemen, tell my loved ones who to sue."

Carson groaned and nodded fervently. Bed sounded good. "Aye. Likewise. Mother o'mercy."

"Yeah, you two think you're really funny, don't you?" Rodney asked, cleaning the table up. "Pick on the smart one. Never fails."

John snickered. "If it ain't broken…"

"Shut up and go to bed."

Carson followed him out of the mess hall, feeling very sick and very sorry. Sheppard didn't say much until they parted ways, and only then it was to stress the importance of sleep. In return Beckett stressed the importance of Mylanta and assured him he was preaching to the choir.

When he entered his dim quarters he didn't even turn the lights up. Rubbing his face, Carson stripped himself of his uniform on the way to his bed and snuggled beneath the covers wearing only his boxers. He had no intention of trying to do anything right now but sleep. The chicken in his stomach had other ideas, however. He sighed and hoped tomorrow's mission went quick and without incident.

* * *

The next day Dr. Beckett was curiously missing from the gate room when they were getting ready to depart. Sheppard lounged in a chair and watched as McKay checked his watch again. Teyla and Ronon stood with Dr. Weir near the DHD. The small party exchanged glances as the minutes crept by. 

"This is ridiculous," Rodney huffed, pacing in front of the gate.

Sheppard shrugged. "I know. I keep saying to myself, 'When are they gonna stop foisting McKay off on me during these missions,' but then I think about what I'd do if _I_ were working in your department."

The scientist glared. "Oh real mature." McKay tapped his earpiece in aggravation and growled, "Beckett, where the hell are you? We're all here, waiting on your grand entrance."

A muffled groan sounded over the comm, followed by rustling. "I'm comin'!" the doctor hissed in reply. Moments later he entered the gate room, walking slowly with his medical case cuddled near. "Well? I made my grand entrance. Are ya happy now?"

"Nobody told you to eat that much," McKay told him in a flat tone. He motioned impatiently for Teyla and Ronon to join them.

Weir followed the other two with a curious expression. "What's got you boys in such terrible moods, anyway?"

McKay lifted his chin, divulging not a clue. "Nothing."

Of course it wouldn't do to hide the real reason from their esteemed leader. Truth was truth. In the end Sheppard decided to rat out the physicist, saying, "McKay tried to murder us last night."

Weir blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Aye," Carson moaned, rubbing his stomach. "With chicken from Hell." Weir did not pursue it further, other than to give the scientist a very speculative look.

Sheppard gazed at the doctor. "How'd you sleep, Doc?" he asked, noting a yawn.

"Like a wee babe," Carson said smoothly.

The Colonel grunted as he stepped up to the gate. "You're lying. Tonight I'll be at your quarters at ten to knock you out, okay?" He made a fist.

Beckett pursed his lips. "Great."

Sheppard turned to Dr. Weir with a half-smile. "We'll be right back."

"I look forward to your report." She gave the party a quick look-over. "Be careful. And John?"

"Elizabeth?"

"Try to keep everyone in one piece."

He gave her a salute. "Always do."

The five Lanteans headed towards the gate as Weir returned to dial them out. Sheppard sidled up to Carson's right and elbowed him. "You could just load yourself down with some narcotics, you know. Me too."

"Aye, that's a great idea!" Beckett responded in mock enthusiasm. "Maybe I could start me own drug rehab center right here on Atlantis, too."

Sheppard sighed mournfully. "It was worth a shot, anyway."

When the Stargate activated the band of Lanteans passed through without tarry, headed by a very eager Dr. McKay. Ronon had his gun ready; Teyla, at his side, followed suit. They slid into the familiar pull of the wormhole and time was as nothing.

And then there was cold. Sheppard departed the event horizon and saw McKay scratching his head. The physicist turned around, threw his arms up in confusion and said, "Anyone care to take a crack at this?"

Sheppard looked around him. They were in a room with pillars all around. A colorless room walled in silvery, dull marble. Hanging from the ceiling were flame-dead, candle-decked chandeliers. There was also a source of unnatural light coming from the tops of each pillar. And nothing else. It was completely empty aside from the light sources and the Stargate. As Rodney jerked his scanner out, Sheppard paced around the room, looking through the shadows. And at the head of the room something caught his attention. "Hey, McKay?"

"What?" the scientist growled irritably as he walked over. He followed Sheppard's pointing upwards. "Is that…is that what I think it is?" He shared a look with the Colonel. "Transport platform. Transport rings here in Pegasus. This is…well…cool." He did a circle, looking up to examine the mechanism. "Now the activation panel should be…"

The Colonel took a few steps to a pillar on his right, lifted his hand and stopped short when McKay glared at him. "Don't you dare turn that thing on while I'm alone underneath it. Who knows what's on the other end of it?"

"I was just gonna point to it," Sheppard assured him, sharing an evil smirk with Beckett. "Well, pick up any life signs on the scanner we should be aware of before we end up wherever we end up?"

McKay shook his head as he positioned himself beneath the platform. He gazed carefully at the scanner. "Not a single one. Guess we've got the place to ourselves. Shall we?"

"Might as well."

The five positioned themselves beneath the platform under the direction of McKay as far as where to stand. As soon as they were all safely within the radius of the rings Sheppard hit the activation switch and five large gates rained down from the ceiling. White light engulfed them and they were drawn upwards.

On the other end of the transport rings was what looked like a silver library. The shelves were tall and littered with electronic storage databases, assorted devices and even paperbound books. There were steel benches with ornate designs etched into their surfaces, computer terminals that were dark, and large windows that showed gray-blue skies and brown cliffs outside. They departed the transport rings in wonder.

As soon as they crossed the barrier the fun started. Ronon had to move quickly to dodge a metal bulkhead as it fell down in front of the platform. Three others joined, forming a perfectly impenetrable square around the transporter. McKay rushed over and shoved at the metal, then banged his fist against it. "Look around for some sort of way to shut this shield down. We must have set off some sort of alarm or something."

Sheppard made a circle around the transporter, looking for any sort of panel or button, but the bulkheads encased the pillars on either side of the rings as well. He cursed and peered around the massive shield to where McKay was furiously examining an Ancient terminal.

"I'm not seein' anythin'," Beckett announced, joining Sheppard as they approached the scientist. "'Course that might have somethin' ta do with the fact I don't know what I'm bloody lookin' for." The Colonel nodded in agreement.

McKay smacked a button on the console in front of him, did it again and let out an exasperated breath. "It's not working. I'm doing what logically should be done, but it's not responding. Just great." He started punching different keys.

Nearby Teyla was examining a shelf of dusty books. She removed one from its seat and gently brushed dust off the cover. The edges of the leather cracked as she opened the volume. "It has been written in," she murmured. Sheppard wandered with Beckett over to her.

"What's it say?" the Colonel asked curiously. He bent over and saw the words glaring up at him. "Can you interpret?"

Her brow was knit as she studied. "I am not certain. I see an expression of frustration." She pointed at the black letters. "That word means 'test', I believe. And this," her voice lowered in pitch, "is the word for 'death'."

"Death?" Beckett repeated with his brows raised. "Rodney, you'd better get that shield down, son."

Sheppard shook his head. "I'm sure it's nothing we need to worry about, Doc. Whoever wrote this might have been writing about the Wraith. And they're long gone, anyway, whoever it was."

"Aye, but all the same…" Carson trailed off, patting his shoulder, and turned away to stroll to the other side of the room where Ronon was.

Crossing his arms, Sheppard followed Teyla along the shelf. There were numerous volumes in this section, as well as assorted papers and star charts. He picked up an old, crumbled looking paper with drawings and equations scribbled, crossed out and retooled. There was a black splotch in the middle that looked like the writer had blotted something out violently.

Teyla pursed her lips. "This is a strange place." She picked up a book from the floor and placed it on the shelf. "It makes me wonder who lived here and what drove them away."

John touched a globe of an unknown planet, sending it swirling on its anti-gravity pedestal. The Athosian cocked her head and watched it absently. There was definitely something about this place that made _him_ wonder too. He wasn't the only one. Beckett was engaged in another book across the way and his expression was nothing less than rapt. Sheppard took a step towards his friend.

McKay's angry cursing nearby brought him out of his reverie. The Colonel turned towards where the scientist was still working. "What's the verdict?" he asked.

Rodney frowned over the console. "Well, we're screwed for starters. At least for now. This outpost or whatever you want to call it is divided into several separate complexes within the surrounding ten or so miles. Each one is reachable by separate transport rings, one of which is right down the hall there." He pointed off in the direction the Lanteans had yet to explore. "There may be another command center where we can turn the shield off, but problem is I can't guarantee that. Nor can I guarantee that once we use the other transport rings they won't behave the same way as this one."

"Hmm," Sheppard hummed. He shook his head. "This one blocks off the Stargate. It might be a defensive mechanism from the Wraith. If the Wraith can't come through the Stargate, they really aren't a threat to the other parts of the station."

The scientist shrugged. "Works in theory. Like I said, though, no guarantees."

"Are you absolutely certain there's no one else in those other buildings?"

"Reasonably so, yes." McKay stared at him. "Why?"

The others came to stand at the console with the two of them. Sheppard glanced back at them briefly. "I say we split up. Me and Carson. Teyla and Ronon. You stay here and work on our little Stargate problem."

"Nice. I'm the one that gets left behind."

Sheppard shrugged. "You're the smartest one here. You need to get us home."

McKay rolled his eyes and went back to his work. "Fine. Whatever. Have fun."

"Wanna come with us? Carson and I could take turns making fun of you."

"I'll find you if I need you." He motioned them to get out of his hair. "Go. The quicker you get this out of your system, the better off we'll all be. Just remember if you see a machine don't touch it. Call me."

Colonel Sheppard gave a mocking salute, then motioned the others to join him down the hallway. A row of floor-to-ceiling windows flanked their left side and he found himself gazing at the landscape as they walked. "Dismal," Carson commented, following the path of his eyes. The ground was mostly dirt with sparse patches of grass and the sky betrayed no cheer with its hue of somber gray. Even the cliffs seemed dark and brooding.

"Looks like it's gonna rain," Sheppard murmured, following the landscape to a small structure hugging the looming cliffside. A metal gate hung open, beckoning the way into a fenced in area roofed in dark shimmering glass and lattice. There had been plants there once upon a time. Bones of dead trees and dried out husks of flowers peeked through the bars of the fence. "This place is kinda creepy if you ask me."

"Aye."

"I think it is mysterious," Teyla interjected. She ran her hand along the dark smoked-colored, carved masonry to the right. Symbols dotted the walls, reminding Sheppard of hieroglyphs. He noticed for the first time that every few yards along this stretch of wall was a recess in which the denizens of this world had placed the largest candles he had ever seen. Teyla leaned over one with three wicks in the center of it and inhaled. A smile crossed her features.

"What is it?" he asked her.

She sniffed again and shook her head. "I do not know, but it is delicate and beautiful."

"Oh yeah?" He sniffed the candle. "Guess the previous owners can't have been all bad. Take a few home with you. I don't think anyone's around to mind."

Teyla smirked, but said nothing as they continued on their way.

At the end of the hall were several rooms. The central room was opened by a glass archway and within they could see the next transport platform. It was pentagonal in shape in contrast to the round rings that would carry them elsewhere; there were five dark walls including the one with the arch, the other four of which had long decorative mirrors down the center. In keeping with the décor of the other transport room two large pillars flanked the platform.

Upon one was the control panel which had several locations prominent on its interface. Sheppard studied it and came to the conclusion he just didn't know what the heck any of them indicated. He placed himself on the platform and Carson followed. "Just pick one that looks good and go," Sheppard told the other two. He pointed to a symbol. "We're going here. Radio in when you arrive on the other side just to let me know you made it all right."

"All right, Colonel," Teyla responded. "Be careful."

John grinned. "Always am." He pushed the button he had chosen and looked up as the rings descended around he and Beckett.

* * *

**A/N:** Dragged myself away from schoolwork to write another story full of whumping. :-) RE: Sunday - I have hope! Just had to say that. ;-)  
**Author:** Angel Ruse  
**Email:** angelruseATgmailDOTcom  
**Myspace:** AngeloftheRuse  
**Distribution:** Go for it.  
**Disclaimer: **Don't own Stargate. Want to own Paul. Starting the bid at 2mill...wait, I don't have 2mill... 


	2. Creep Factor

**Dark Element****  
**Creep Factor

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. Atlantis is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

The place where Teyla and Ronon appeared was not so open. It was dark and cold. There were no windows and no doors leading to the outside world. The Athosian suspected they were, in fact, under ground. This fact was later confirmed when they came to an elevator marked with the Ancient word for 'surface'. How far they were down they had no way of knowing, for the elevator would not open. It stood abandoned in the wake of their exploration.

They were now in an armory. There were weapons of different styles here and there, mounted on the walls and standing on pedestals. It was like a collection rather than any sort of supply for groups of people.

Ronon had a sword pulled off its place on the far wall. He held it aloft, his muscles taut with tension as he tested the weight and movement of the blade. It was heavy; a weapon made for death, not for speed. He swung it around a few times, then stopped with a challenging look at his companion.

She had foreseen this. Her weapon was already chosen. By the time he swung the heavy sword at her she had already ducked and rolled. As she rose from the floor her palm claimed the handle of a warhammer. It came from its stand freely and warded off another blow from the large warrior who had closed in on her. Teyla held the handle in both hands, pushing back his slash until he was forced to move off.

Ronon thrust the blade towards her relentlessly. She threw herself to the side, doubled over as the weapon sailed over her in a rough swing, then smacked the end of her hammer into his wrist without mercy. He dropped the heavy sword, but his reaction was swift. Twisting so her back was to his front, he pulled her into him. Teyla let out a hiss as he said, "Do you concede?"

"Yes," she answered grudgingly, her breath coming fast. He let her go and they returned the weapons to their rightful places. "An impressive collection."

"Yeah," he agreed simply, wiping his forehead with his arm.

She offered him a smile as he ran his fingers along a mounted rifle. "Such an extensive collection of different types of weapons." Teyla picked up something metal and round that she had no idea the purpose of. "They must have been great warriors."

Ronon held up what looked like a set of iron claws that attached to the wearer's hand. There were poison sacks along the underside of each blade. "Or fond of pain."

His response made her purse her lips in thought. "I cannot imagine the Ancestors fond of causing pain." She lifted a dagger from a stationary sheath. "Still, it does make me wonder what sort of people lived here. This is very different from Atlantis."

"They can't have all been the same," he reasoned. He held her gaze for a long moment. "You enjoy it here." It wasn't a question.

The two of them wandered from the armory to continue their search. "I find it fascinating," she confessed with a sidelong glance. "To study the Ancestors, to explore who they were as a people."

"Fair enough." Ronon nodded thoughtfully, and then smiled his quiet smile. "But I think you crave the adventure, too."

She turned, backing into a door to open it, replying only with a secretive, "Perhaps."

They were thrown into darkness on the other side of the door. It was strange, for the rest of this part of the complex had been illuminated enough for easy navigation. Teyla flipped the light of her P-90 on and pointed it towards the black expanse before them. The beams fell upon steel bars blocking the path to an easy death. They were on a landing that overlooked a very long drop. A set of stairs wound into the deep. Ronon stepped down onto the first and looked at her curiously. "Shall we?"

Teyla joined him and together they descended into the pitch black with only her light to guide them. The walls were mute gray and plain, no decorations or indications of where they were going or what they would find at the bottom. Their feet and the sound of an insistent _drip, drip, dripping_ from below were the only noises echoing in the stairwell.

When they reached the bottom Ronon was the first off the stairs, his gun poised despite Dr. McKay's assurance that there was no one else here. The very atmosphere of the place bred uneasiness and Teyla had to agree she felt the need to be ready for anything.

There was only one way to go. Ahead of them were two steel doors side by side. Ronon pushed one of them open, slipping inside as silent as a predator. He listened and then allowed her passage. Teyla entered and gasped at how cold it was. She directed her light into the new section, wondering what could possibly be down in this inhospitable place.

She didn't wonder long. There were cells lining the walls, locked with heavy, metal doors. Each of them had a large window that would allow any passer to see within. Observation windows. Teyla walked up to one and peered inside, gasping at what met her vision. Bones and blood. She knit her brow, following a hand's bloody trail on up the wall on the opposite side of where she was standing. Ronon looked over her shoulder.

"There is a fine line between adventure and danger," she commented softly. She brushed past the large warrior to peer into another cell. It bore similar signs of suffering within. "What sort of people would mistreat their prisoners like this?"

Ronon hefted his gun onto his shoulder. "I don't know. If those prisoners were Wraith…" He trailed off, having no need to finish his thought. She knew what he meant. He peered into the cell near her. "Perhaps it wasn't the jailers, but the prisoners themselves that were violent."

"One can hope." Though she didn't take comfort from that thought. She didn't like this place. "We should report this to Colonel Sheppard." Teyla turned her radio on and was greated by the sound of static.

Ronon tried his and got the same result. "We must be too from the place where he and Beckett are. We should go back to McKay, then try again."

Teyla nodded her agreement, eager to be out of this suffocating place. The darkness smothered her senses and that which the dark hid made her feel cold. Together they approached the steel doors leading towards the stairwell.

Only the doors wouldn't open. Ronon tried to push, but it remained steadfastly shut. "Did you feel a lock when you came in?" he asked.

"No." Teyla ran her light along the metal. There was no evidence of a locking mechanism or even a security panel on either side of the threshold. The Athosian looked into Ronon's face gravely. "Perhaps there is another way out."

They examined the prison extensively. There were about thirty cells or more, but no other exits than the one barred from them. The terminals had all been outside the cell room, so even that option was taken from them. Ronon pointed towards the door. "Light," he told her and she did as he asked.

With all his might he threw himself at the door, but it did no good. From what she could see it did not even budge with his attempt. He exhaled and met her worried gaze. "Looks like we got ourselves an adventure."

* * *

On the other side of the complex Sheppard and Beckett had appeared in a room filled with soft light. Windows surrounded them with panes touched by the delicate drips of the rain's first offerings. The men gazed out at a storm approaching in the distance. The dark clouds hovered over a large body of water they hadn't seen from the other building. Waves crashed upon rocky shores.

"This would make a nice beach house," Sheppard conceded. "You know, minus the creep factor we run into every now and then."

Beckett nodded and walked to a chair overlooking the sea. He ran his fingers along the cloth arm where it had been torn. There were five rips along each arm, drawn back as if the person seated had done so out of anger or malice. "Take a look at this, lad."

"What's that?" Sheppard said, approaching. He looked down and raised an eyebrow.

"Another one o'your creep factors." Carson mimicked the path of the claw marks. "Not sure I'd want ta meet the person that did this."

John scratched his temple. "Maybe he had a really bad itch he just couldn't reach," he speculated playfully. He shrugged at the doctor, who laughed.

Beckett picked up a book that had fallen open and been left lying between the chair and a table at its side. He smoothed the bent pages, but they remained irreparably marred. The words were written in Ancient, but judging from the hasty, haphazard markings he thought it might be a journal or some such. He turned one of the pages and saw a drawing of what looked like a solar system and meridians crossing specific places. It was a mystery.

He turned another page and widened his eyes, startled by what he saw. "Colonel," he said, then handed the book to his companion.

Sheppard peered at the page. The letters were angry, written in a fit of rage. Written in dark red ink. The Colonel whistled. "Yeah, that's a good omen."

Before Beckett could reply Sheppard's radio came to life, transmitting Teyla's voice. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Teyla. Are you there?"

He put the device to his mouth. "Roger that. I assume you made it all right."

"Yes. The transport rings have not been shielded." Her voice sounded choppy and distant. "We're in what…like…prison…"

Sheppard hit the transmitter. "Say again? You're breaking up."

"…up as well. We…sort of cells. N…indic…of life, but…is locked…Colonel?"

He let out a frustrated breath as the signal fizzled. "Be careful, Teyla. Don't take any chances. Go back to McKay if you run into anything dangerous. Sheppard out." John shared a look with Beckett. "I'm liking this place less and less."

"It isn't a place I'd care to frequent, at any rate. Not without givin' it a thorough go-over for nasty surprises." The two men exited the ring room and were met with several hallways branching off in different directions. "A'right, lad. Which way we goin' ta go first?"

The Colonel peered down each, trying to see what they might walk into before they walked into it. They all looked the same—dark, windowed and dusty. "I suppose 'eeny meeny miney mo' would lessen your opinion of me," he commented, pointing to the hallway on his left.

Beckett shrugged. "I might have ta ask Dr. Heightmeyer to reassess what cognitive developmental stage you're currently workin' on, an' share that information with Dr. Weir, but I wouldn't say no to any hearin' about, er…alternative solutions."

"Bribes?" Sheppard guessed, smirking at his friend. "Doc, I'm astounded. Are you really that devious?"

"You have no idea," Carson replied with a completely straight face.

The conversation was going to take a turn. Beckett could sense it a mile away and wondered if this was how others felt about his own pestering as Sheppard said, "Now as long as we're alone and talking, why don't you tell me what's on your mind?"

"What d'ya mean?" Carson asked, trying to play ignorant as long as he could.

It wasn't going to work long. "I mean why have you been so bothered lately? It's more than just sleep, Doc. I can tell you've been uneasy."

"Are ya my therapist now?"

"Just think of me as a concerned friend, 'cause well, that's what I am."

Carson sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I don't rightly know what's wrong with me. Nothin' physical. And no, that isn't an evasion." He gave Sheppard a sidelong look. "I think I'm just goin' through a stressful period."

"Fair enough." Sheppard nodded in concession. "Just don't want you to go it alone, that's all. I'd like to think if something was wrong and you needed to talk, you feel you can come to me."

"I will. I appreciate it, lad. Really I do. I think things are just happenin' so fast lately, and my body is havin' trouble catchin' up ta what all my mind's takin' in." He hoped that didn't sound as lame to Sheppard as it did to him. But it was true. He just didn't know what was wrong with him and didn't want to make an issue of it when it was probably nothing.

Without knowing the 'why' or the 'where' the duo wandered through the deserted halls, passing some doors and peeking through others briefly just to feel the place out. It looked to be some sort of private living area. Most of the rooms were covered in dust, having been abandoned long ago. Others showed some wear and tear of use despite the evidence of self-maintenance on the complex. All in all, the place showed its age.

And then they came to a certain door that caused Beckett to pause. It was tall and forged of ornately designed dark wood. He ran his fingers along a carved symbol near the heavy, metal door handle. "I'll say this for whoever used ta live here, they certainly had different taste than yer run o'the mill Ancient. Kind of old-worldy, isn't it?"

"Maybe he didn't design it," Sheppard murmured, trying to see beyond as Carson pushed the door open. "Maybe this place belonged to someone else before."

Inside was a private office that was somewhat different than the library they had entered from the Stargate's direction. There was a large desk at the far end of the room, back-dropped by windows and draperies of midnight blue. The rain was really coming down, he saw. Lighting streaked the sky in the distance.

There were shelves filled with databases, papers flung here and there, and lab equipment on the left side of the room where a broken beaker lay on its shattered side. It was impressive and that wasn't all there was to the room. On the other side there was a large curtain drawn around a table; Beckett could see stainless steel legs beneath the tasseled ending of it. He moved to examine it further and pulled a rope hanging from the ceiling on the end of the structure.

"I've suddenly got a bad feelin' about this place," he said, turning to give Sheppard a grave look.

The Colonel stopped with his hand on a door handle near the table Carson was motioning towards. He moved to join him and looked down. There before them was a steel bed with an overhead lamp dangling above and a tray with medical tools at the head of it. The surface was marred by dried blood in spatters and pools. "Maybe he was a doctor?" Sheppard suggested. "Don't you guys dissect corpses in medical school?"

Beckett cocked his head. "Lad, we don't do it in the professor's neatly furnished office. And generally speakin', we don't need cuffs to hold the bodies down." He pointed at wrist and ankle cuffs that showed definite signs of use.

"Point taken." Sheppard wandered to the large desk and plopped down in the chair. Objects on the desk had been scattered as if someone had looked for something in a hurry. His attention was snared and the doctor looked in interest to see what he had found. From beneath the debris a steadily blinking light beckoned their eyes. The Colonel cleared away the papers and books, tossing them to the floor without regard.

It was a recording device. McKay had found several of them on Atlantis, having been abandoned by their previous owners. On its face was a black panel that Sheppard pressed his thumb against while thinking the simple command to playback. The voice of a somber male shattered the quiet.

_They're coming back. I don't have much time. They will kill me when they find out I have escaped their prison. I must hide. Aila, I _**_will_**_ return for you._

The recording went dead. Both men shared a quizzical look between them before John said, "Looks like someone else didn't like it here either."

Beckett sat on the edge of the desk. "And so the plot thickens. Still, doesn't lead us any closer to our ZPM."

"No, it doesn't," Sheppard agreed, getting up from the desk. "Whoever he was, I hope he got her. As for me, I'm gonna go across the hall and have a look. Why don't you try looking around in here? See if you can find anything useful, maybe even a map of the compound in the database if you're feeling ambitious."

"You're leavin' me alone in here?" Beckett asked nervously.

"Well, yeah."

"In Dr. Psycho's office?"

The Colonel grinned at his tone. "Shouldn't be too different than being in McKay's office. Don't worry about it. If you need me just scream like you're being murdered."

"Oh, you're a real barrel o'laughs." Carson rolled his eyes as Sheppard disappeared. He pushed himself off the desk to explore his surroundings. It wasn't what he would call an inviting room, to be sure. And though he tried not to prejudge anyone, he just couldn't imagine what sort of person would dissect bodies in their own office. Surely the Ancients had a laboratory somewhere around here where such work could be done, perhaps an infirmary.

With that in mind he decided he most likely wouldn't find what he was looking for in here. He strolled to the door Sheppard had been about to open and took up where the Colonel had left off.

He had found the infirmary, if one could call it that. There were the usual beds lined up, medical tools and diagnostic machines. And opposite the door was the most chilling. A wall separated the final portion of the room. There were two cells, and through the barred windows on each he could see they weren't very big. Carson wondered if he dare peek inside one.

The rest of the infirmary was in disarray and for an absent-minded moment Beckett went about picking up this and that, examining it and discarding what he couldn't discern the use of. He picked up a fallen glass jar at the end of a bed and looked inside at the honey-colored plasma inside. Of course he would not open it here, for fear of some sort of germ, but it drove him to wonder what had gone on here so long ago.

He could almost feel fear and suffering permeating the atmosphere, could almost hear whimpers and cries. Carson exhaled and set the jar down. Had the doctors here been causing the pain, or trying to cure it?

"You're imaginin' things," Carson breathed, stepping over to a computer terminal nearby. Perhaps he merely saw through the mirror of his own melancholy, for indeed he had been feeling it for longer than he could recall. Not that he had lied. He _didn't_ know what was wrong with him lately. But things were happening fast and sometimes he felt his own innocence was fading with the time that disappeared so quickly.

He rolled his eyes at himself, growled, "Melodramatic jessie," and decided he was going to have to get back to sleeping regularly again. His eyes fell upon the task at hand—the Ancient computer where he would hopefully find some answers. "You can do this, lad. No one's goin' ta die."

He set his hand on the panel before him and pondered what to concentrate on. "Map," he muttered as if the computer had ears to hear. "Show me a map."

Technically the computer did follow his instructions. It did look like a very basic map, but of what he could not hazard a guess. There was a straight road leading to a sizeable squared off area—which spawned roads in other directions—and this area had several distinctive features, none of which he could identify with any certainty. _I don't suppose a more detailed map is possible_, he thought irritably.

The image changed before his eyes. What he thought was a road was, in fact, a small pathway leading towards a stone courtyard. He cocked his head and watched plants spring up into 3D, a glass roof materialize, and as in the center a dormant fountain appeared. It was the fountain that kept his attention. It was highlighted in soft light and he wondered at the significance.

Whatever it was it had nothing to do with what he was trying to do, though. He let out a breath and tried to envision what the whole complex might look like, tried asking mentally if the computer would please be so nice as to share it without a technical fuss. After all, the chair on Atlantis wasn't this finicky.

Nothing happened. He stared blankly at the screen, watching a leaf blow across the courtyard. "Let's try something else," he told the unruly machine, thinking of the entire planet, what he knew of the surrounding system. Nothing. He thought of Atlantis. Nothing, but the screen did flicker. It excited him for a brief two minutes as he thought maybe the computer was catching on.

Yet despite that lapse it remained on the same scene as before.

Carson groaned and muttered, "Oh, bloody hell. I hate machines." He stood there and tried a few more times, then sighed. It was no good. He had no idea why it was stuck on this silly courtyard or what the computer was trying to tell him. He pulled his hand off the terminal and turned around.

And jumped nearly out of his skin. Carson raced a hand to his chest, glaring as Sheppard started laughing. "What're ya sneakin' up on me for, son?" he asked moodily.

"Hey, I was just about to say something," he defended himself. "You're the one that turned around and freaked out. Did you find anything?"

The doctor glanced at the now darkened screen, then shook his head. "Nothin' really. Stupid computer won't respond. You?"

"Yeah, I actually found a door leading outside. I touched a panel on the wall and lights lit up the way. I thought we'd take a look around." Sheppard motioned Beckett out of the lab. "Come on. You look like you could use some fresh air. It's pretty relaxing out there."

"And the rain?"

The Colonel shook his head. "Glass roof over the path. I walked it and came back as dry as a bone. Coming?"

"Aye," he agreed as his friend disappeared from the door. He rubbed his temples, sparing the monitor one final glance that stopped him dead in his tracks. Without his touching the panel writing had appeared on the screen.

_Help me._

Carson looked away momentarily to call for Sheppard, but when his eyes hit the screen again the message was gone. The computer had gone black again. He stared, startled and bewildered. "Are you coming?" Sheppard yelled from the other room.

The doctor nodded his head slowly even though his friend wasn't there to see, calling, "Aye, lad!" He waited a moment longer, but nothing happened, and so he left the infirmary thinking maybe he needed fresh air and a nice, comfy bed to go along with it. "I'm goin' daft," he chided himself as he exited the room.

Sheppard was waiting, seated on the desk with a smirk. "Can't go somewhere when you're already there, now, can you?"

Beckett glared at him.

* * *

Thanks for the reviews, guys! Hope you continue to enjoy:-)


	3. Let There Be Light

**Dark Element****  
**Let There Be Light

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. The teamis placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

McKay stood before the terminal where his comrades had left him. In retrospect he supposed he deserved this. After all, one doesn't get to be pretty darn brilliant without having to pay out for it. Yet he had never before made the acquaintance of such an unruly machine in all his days…in Pegasus, anyway. There had been that one computer in college. He had been trying to reclaim that 'special schematic' he had been perfecting that the government had confiscated from him. Though he had cracked several layers of encryption, well let us say they could never accuse Rodney McKay of rebuilding his backdoor hardware designed to do exactly what he had been trying to do. The loss of that brilliant bit of work still smarted to this day. 

He sighed. The computer wasn't asking for a password. It wasn't trying to test his knowledge of hacking. Hell, he would have given it a pint of blood if it had wanted it in exchange for opening the way to the Stargate, but since the computer wasn't asking for that either it probably wouldn't do much good except to further aggravate the scientist. He had done everything he knew to do and yet nothing worked.

Rodney stared at the screen. It stared back just as coldly, just as blank as ever. His eyes narrows to slits and he crossed his arms defensively. The terminal remained defiant. McKay clenched his fist…

His radio springing to life quite suddenly scared about two years off his life. He jumped straight up, cursed and fumbled until he had the radio in hand. Muttering a very annoyed, "_What?_" he gave the computer terminal a warning look that said, _I'll be back for you later_.

"Dr. McKay?" It was Teyla. She didn't sound happy. "Can you hear me?"

He shrugged, brow knit. "Of course I can hear you. This better be important."

"Let me see," he heard Ronon say in the background. McKay sighed when the warrior said into the radio, "We're trapped in some sort of underground bunker. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you mind seeing if you can unlock the door?"

There was always something, wasn't there? Rodney rolled his eyes and went back to the accursed terminal. "I can try, but I make no promises. I have yet to figure out how to get this friggen bulkhead out of the way of the transport rings, and if I can't do that it'll hardly matter where any of us die, now will it?"

"Look on the bright side, McKay. There could be Wraith swarming us right now."

"Yeah," McKay murmured, using the terminal to pinpoint their location. "Some bright side. Is Colonel Sheppard with you? Oh, no he isn't. I see you now. Where are he and Carson?"

"They went to explore another part of the complex."

Rodney grunted. "Have you heard from them?"

"Negative. We contacted them briefly after splitting up and the radio broke up. We tried again a few minutes ago and they wouldn't respond."

The reply caused McKay to sigh. God only knew he was probably going to have to save them from this ancient junk heap of a station as well. He tapped his fingers against the console, sifting through the various commands tied into that area of the complex. "The doors are locked," he thought aloud.

"We already had that part figured out," Ronon replied all too seriously.

McKay rolled his eyes. "Well, see the problem is this computer is either so old it's gone senile, or the programmer who built this place had a twisted sense of humor. I can't get the bulkhead to move, and if your locked door doesn't ask for a password…oh crap."

Teyla spoke into the radio. "Dr. McKay?"

"Hang on a minute," the physicist said softly. He stared at the panel before him, his cynicism replaced by nerves. "Trying to bypass the locking mechanism. Just…just stay still, will you?"

Neither responded, so he didn't know if they were heeding his advice or not. He couldn't concern himself to ask at the moment. The computer before him continued its defiance, causing him to slam his hands against the console. "Damn it!" he growled viciously.

"What is it?" Teyla asked calmly. He hated that.

"Not only are you locked down there, but power has been completely shut off. I couldn't unlock the doors if I wanted to without figuring out how to power the system back up."

"Can you do this?"

He thought her question a trifle naive. "Of course I can do it. But you're both beneath the surface in an airtight bunker with no power whatsoever, and I'm not even a tenth of the way down the path of understanding this stupid computer system. Do you see now why I'm a little stressed?"

They were quiet a moment, whether in thought or in fear he didn't know. He heard someone sigh across the radio and wanted to shout for them to stop wasting the limited air supply, but his thoughts were racing a mile a minute and he held his tongue. "Do what you can," Teyla finally said, with that same calm he envied and found aggravating.

"Right," he said, resigned to cutting the conversation off completely so they could conserve their oxygen. "No physical activity. No talking. Nothing that causes heavy breathing…well, you know what I mean. I'll get you out. Just save your air. McKay out."

He turned the radio off without another word. If Sheppard and Beckett landed themselves in trouble, well, that was just going to be too bad for the time being.

Oh, how he loathed these fly by the seat of his pants rescues!

* * *

"Ya do understand what relaxin' means, right son?" Beckett asked Sheppard as they exited the complex. The rain had calmed, but would still soak the unfortunate wanderer who braved to walk without cover. Luckily those who had lived here before had foreseen the need for cover and erected steel lattice fitted with glass much like what Sheppard had seen outside the first building. Rain and dark leaves from tall trees on either side fell to the glass like a shroud of beauty and death. 

That wasn't what caused Carson's bout of cynicism, however. It was the bloody footprints stained onto the stone path that had him bothered. It the broken planters, the shattered glass strewn along the walk, the little pieces of evidence here and there that spoke of tension and hurry. Someone had blown through here in a rage.

Sheppard shrugged at the doctor. "Hey, aside from that. The garden ahead is nice. We could almost pretend we aren't in the middle of some nut job's house of horrors."

The doctor hummed in response, taking in their surroundings. "Ya know…" he started, but didn't finish his thought. Then it hit him. Carson picked up the pace, causing Sheppard to follow in confusion.

At the end of the path he found exactly what he thought he would. It was the courtyard the computer had shown him. It wasn't as lovely as the map had been, however. Most of the plants that had been under the protective shield of the glass were now dead, having been denied the water needed to sustain them. Dust covered everything and the brick walls around the yard were cracked or crumbling in places.

The fountain in the center was the only thing untouched by the dirt of time's passing. It was large—probably a good 20 feet in circumference. There was no major amount of water in it, however, which was very odd considering the glass ceiling stopped just on the edges of the surrounding stone wall. Years of rainwater should have filled and overflowed.

In the middle was a great statue that was covered by long vines of the same dark leaves that had rained upon the glass along the path. Years and years of growth made the stuff dangle down like a drapery around the fountain. "What's on your mind, Doc?" Sheppard asked, catching up.

Beckett turned towards him and motioned all around. "The computer showed me this place. It wouldna get off this ruddy fountain, lad. And you say lights sprang up, showin' ya the way to the door?"

The Colonel nodded, catching on. "It does seem a bit convenient, doesn't it?"

"There's somethin' else, too."

"What's that?"

Beckett shrugged a bit uncomfortably. "Well, before we left tha' little lab or whatever ya'd call it, I took a look at tha' computer screen an' saw somethin'."

"What?" Sheppard pressed curiously.

The doctor felt a bit sheepish at that point, but knew he had to tell what he had seen, no matter how crazy it sounded. "Well, I saw 'help me' written across the screen."

"Help me?"

"Aye." Carson rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought maybe my mind was playin' tricks on me, perhaps I was tired, but considerin' the other oddities…"

Sheppard nodded his agreement. "Yeah, I see what you mean. Looks like we've got a live one somewhere in the compound, huh?"

Carson hadn't thought that far. He blinked, startled. "Ya think tha'?"

"Well, unless you think it was a preplanned message in a bottle." John gave an innocuous shrug, but underlying that was worry. The doctor could see it in his eyes. This situation was getting stranger each discovery, and the longer they stayed the more potential there was for escalation of that strangeness. Under the circumstances neither of them were entirely interested in seeing what that would bring.

"I wonder if it's our friend from the recordin'," Beckett murmured, drawing back some of the vines to look into the fountain. "The map seemed ta focus on this. But why?"

Brushing away the vines, Sheppard sat down on the rim of the fountain and looked inside. The floor was wet, but not filled as most fountains were. Leaves were plastered like a burnt plum carpet, writhing with each sprinkle of rain that pelted from the sky.

Beckett threw his leg over the side and said, "Would ya look at tha'?" He pointed towards the statue in the center. It was a woman standing in solemn vigilance, a sea of leaves pouring down her stone body. Rain wept down her shroud and made slick the black panel in the base that Beckett was heading for.

About halfway there the ground began to creak. Carson froze when the ground shivered beneath his feet.

"Doc," Sheppard hummed in warning, gazing at the floor of leaves. It sounded as if the surface holding the leaves was wood instead of stone, and if that were the case Beckett could very well take a nasty tumble. "I don't like this."

"And ya think I'm lovin' it, son?" Beckett asked tensely. He looked over his shoulder at Sheppard with hopeful eyes.

John threw his leg over the side as if to get in. "Walk softly," he said. "If that's wood under there then the rain's probably rotted it. With any luck there's dirt just under the floor, but…" The floor creaked as Beckett moved. Something from beneath him snapped and fell off, echoing when it hit a hard surface some yards below. The fountain was quite hollow underneath.

"Lad, I'm walkin' on a bloody deathtrap here..."

He scooted closer to the doctor and held out his hands. "Make a jump for it."

"Oh, right," Carson moaned, trying to keep his balance as the floor began to bow. "What sorta moron makes a fountain out o'wood, anyway?" He hesitated for a long moment, and then made the jump, closing his eyes at the last second.

The creaking floor gave way at the sudden shift in weight. With a squeak Beckett the floor with his chest, his legs falling into the now gaping hole beneath him. He started sliding rapidly. Sheppard dropped to his knees on the stable portion of the floor and scrambled to grab Carson's hands. It was too late. Slippery leaves piled onto him, weighing him down. He moaned as the strain of holding on became too much. The doctor couldn't hold onto the wood anymore. Just as Sheppard dove to rescue him, he let go and fell into darkness.

"Doc!" John barked in a panic. His voice echoed down after the fallen doctor, who hit bottom not long after slipping down.

"Brilliant," Beckett grumbled, glaring up through the hole. He was now on his back, groaning in pain, spitting out leaves that accosted his face. The hole smelled strongly of mold. He coughed.

Sheppard rubbed his chin and sat down on the edge, draping his legs over. "Okay. So it wasn't one of my better ideas. I'll admit it." It was a six-foot drop from top to bottom, so he braved it and landed beside the doctor. "At least you didn't fall far."

Beckett was rubbing his posterior. "I think I broke my bloody tailbone." He took Sheppard's offered help to stand and examined his arm, sighing at the blood trailing down his gray coat. "Would ya look at that? Stupid wood snagged me."

"How bad is it?"

Folding his ripped sleeve back exposed a long scrape along the forearm. Carson touched the tender skin near the cut and winced. "My medical bag, is it…it's over there. There's some antibiotic wet towels in there. And a bandage." Sheppard grabbed the bag and fished through it for the items in question, then watched the doctor clean his arm off.

He helped Beckett wrap the length of gauze tightly around the cut to stop the bleeding, glancing around as he did so. They were in some sort of catacomb hall with plain walls and no light the further one got away from the hole they had just created. "Well, what do you say, Doc? Do we go back up or do we see where this leads?" He aimed his P-90 towards the blackness and turned the flashlight on.

"I'm not sure I want ta know," Beckett replied with a grunt as he tied off his bandage. "The good lord only knows what might be down there. Anythin' from blood ta bones."

"Probably both."

Carson shook his head but made no protest. "We may as well see if it leads to our friend. Go first so ya can fall down the next hole instead o'me."

"Sure thing," Sheppard murmured with a half-smirk. He pointed his weapon and followed the dusty path. Stones along the wall seemed to climb into the illumination with each step. They wound around going further and further beneath the surface of the earth until at last they found the bottom. Sheppard took a step down the ramp into the large room that opened up before them. He cursed.

"Lad?" Beckett pressed, his voice echoing.

The Colonel pointed his light down. The floor glittered and moved. It was wet down here. Very wet. Sheppard glared at the ceiling as a drop of water hit his head. "Well, I'd guess we were in some sort of burial chamber except I'm not seeing any coffins." His light rested on a very blank wall across the way.

Shaking his head, Beckett pointed towards something opposite the ramp. "I wouldn't be too sure. Look there."

Sheppard followed the doctor's pointing with his flashlight. It landed on a slick, shiny surface that looked out of place coupled with the rough-hewn walls around them. They approached and indeed it was long as a man is tall, standing waist high. At the head of it was a window to see within. Sheppard directed his flashlight inside.

A young face, eyes closed in sleep, met their vision. He had dark hair the smooth features of one younger than either of the men peering down. "I don't think he's quite dead," the Colonel murmured. "Must be some sort of stasis chamber."

"Aye," Beckett agreed, running his hand along the chamber's surface. "There must be some sort of control panel on it somewhere." He bent down and looked as his fingers brushed another texture. "Here."

"Should we do this?" Sheppard asked, shaking his head. "I dunno. This whole place gives me a bad feeling. I'm not so sure we should invite more trouble."

"Are ya sayin' we should leave him here? If it was him what left tha' message…" Carson scanned the container and gazed up at him. "Lad, he's an Ancient. Strange. He's a young one, by the looks of it."

The voice from the recording had not been that of an older man, certainly. Perhaps somehow the young man had secreted himself away from the denizens of this dark world, leaving messages so that someday he could be rescued and could rescue his Aila.

"Is it safe to revive him now? Here?"

Beckett nodded a bit uncertainly. Seeing Sheppard pick up on that, he confessed, "Well, as safe as can be expected, given the circumstances. I mean I can open it; it's not that different than those on Atlantis. I won' say it wouldna be safer ta do it in the infirmary, but I don't reckon we'll be gettin' him up there any time soon."

Sheppard rubbed his forehead in thought, then shrugged. "You're the doc, Doc." He moved to the foot of the chamber and aimed his P-90. "Might as well take the precautions we can."

"Aye, though I don't think it likely he'll be much of a threat at first. He's been sleepin' a long while and he'll be weak." Beckett placed his fingers along the panel as he did the computer in the lab and closed his eyes in concentration. It didn't take long for the chamber to light up. Within the young Ancient's face was illuminated by gentle shades of viridian. The sharp thrum of computer circuits being awakened broke the silence around them. Carson cocked his head to the side and gazed into the chamber. "It'll go through a dehiberation sequence before openin' up for our friend here."

The sequence took fifteen minutes to complete, which seemed to trouble the doctor, who forgot the puzzle as soon as it finished. John tensed when the top of the chamber popped up and opened down the center. Within their Ancient friend stirred softly as if being roused from a long nap. He wore the usual mantle of the Ancients, functional and in muted tones, though instead of earthen beige his clothes were spun of the color of ashes. Attached to his wrists were strange looking circuits. John nodded towards the right arm. "What's that?"

Beckett lifted the arm gently and examined the hardware wired into the Ancient. "Don't know, lad." He ran his fingers along the smooth metal. "Warm ta the touch, though, so it must be doin' somethin'. Maybe…" He trailed off.

Pale eyes gazed into the doctor's. The Ancient remained still, assessing both men with a keen, highly intelligent gaze. And then he turned his attention to Sheppard. His tone was very weak and yet very confident at the same time as he said, "Lower your weapon."

Sheppard gripped the P-90 tighter. Something in those eyes made him uneasy.

* * *

I promise...whump next chapter. :-O Thanks for reading so far! 


	4. In Dark Places

**Dark Element****  
**In Dark Places

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. The team is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

"Lower your weapon," the voice insisted again. The sickly Ancient inhaled a deep breath, seeming to bask in the act of actually being able. "I will not fight." He gazed at Sheppard thoughtfully. "You're not one of the scientists that worked here." 

The Lt. Colonel lowered his weapon for the time being and shook his head in response to the question put at him. "No, we're not from around here. We're exploring."

True to his profession, at the moment Beckett was more concerned with the health of their new contact. He continued scanning the Ancient before them. "How ya feelin', son?" he asked, aiding as the stranger before them attempted to sit. "Ya look a bit green around the gills, if ya don't mind my sayin'."

"Thank you for your concern," the stranger replied simply. An odd and somewhat evasive response. Beckett and Sheppard exchanged glances as the Ancient went about smoothing hands along his arms as if reaffirming he was indeed awake. When his hands crossed paths with the metal devices on his wrists he looked, and when he saw what was there he laughed. "You'll forgive me if I seem a bit strange," he responded to their curious stares. "I have been through an ordeal."

"Must have been something to warrant shutting yourself away for thousands of years," Sheppard remarked causally.

If the Ancient thought much of the revelation that he had possibly been asleep for thousands of years, he showed only a second's betrayal of surprise at hearing it. He watched John with eyes that seemed to see through all. "It was not my choice to sleep, I'm afraid. They did this to me."

"Ya thought they'd kill ya?" Carson assumed, taking from what he heard in the recording. "We ah, heard your message."

The Ancient nodded slowly. "Yes. I thought they would kill me. They had me in their grasp and I remember falling into the blackest sleep I could have ever imagined. My last thoughts then were that they had, in fact, injected me with a deadly agent."

Sheppard shook his head, wanting to get this from the beginning before it became too confusing. "Okay, who are 'they'? What is this place?"

"Ah, I assumed you must have had an idea, but then no. You say you are exploring?" the Ancient murmured, turning that quizzical look on them again. Wise though he may be, born to it by heritage, this man had as many questions as the two Earthmen before him. He knit his brow, appearing lost. "My name is Aerien. I was a scientist here."

There was a pause in which the Lanteans assumed they were supposed to introduce themselves. "John Sheppard," the Colonel supplied, then motioned to the doctor at his side. "This is Carson Beckett. He's a physician."

A smile curled along Aerien's lips. "And you are a soldier." His pale eyes seemed to consume both men as if he were reading their spirits. "I can tell. Well, you are indeed my saviors. As to what this place is, it was a place of intense study. We wished to understand the secrets of pure energy."

"Ascension?" Sheppard assumed.

Aerien nodded once. "That was a part of it, yes, though we studied all manner of physics and biology. Unfortunately I learned things that my brethren did not wish shared with the greater population. Deadly, dark secrets they feared would ruin them all. And thus they captured me."

"And Aila?" Carson asked gently.

The Ancient flinched, for the first time betraying a break in that steady calm of his. "I wanted to save her," he whispered. Those luminescent eyes closed in remembered pain. He apparently would say nothing of that. He lifted his hand to Beckett. "Would you be so kind as to help me?"

"Aye." Carson moved to aid the weakened man, taking up a place at his side to lift him from the confines of the chamber. "We should get you to an infirmary," he suggested, though was uncomfortably reminded of the strange rooms within the building. Was what they had seen the evidence of the terrible discovery Aerien had made, the discovery that lead to his being locked away?

Aerien shook his head. "I need but to rest, I think. Where is this place?" He looked around him uncertainly.

"Beneath the fountain," Carson replied, reluctantly letting the Ancient stand on his own upon his insistence. Aerien froze and paled at the answer.

"Of course. They put me with Aila," he whispered, stepping from the chamber into the water on the floor. He did not seem to notice or mind. Carson was about to inquire about his health again, but stopped when his faraway gaze hardened. "Then let us depart this wretched place."

Beckett glanced at Sheppard, who looked just as uneasy as he felt inside. Aerien inquired about where they had come from as the two men led him through the tunnel, back towards the hole in the fountain. "At the moment we're from Atlantis," Sheppard offered.

Aerien glanced at him. "And they allowed you to come here?"

"Well, a lot of things have changed." The Colonel stopped when they came beneath the fountain. "We suspect you've been asleep a very long time. And I mean quite long. The Ancients don't inhabit Atlantis anymore."

"The Wraith overcame them?" Aerien asked darkly. He appeared greatly relieved when they were able to deny that. Sheppard explained as the three men climbed from the darkness into the fresh air. Sprinkling droplets rained on them from the opening in the canopy above.

Beckett rushed the other two out of it, murmuring, "Ya'll catch your deaths." Without much fuss or fanfare the trio made their way back into the compound and out of the chilly wind. Once within the doors Aerien stopped. A hand caressed the wall in remembrance. Carson wondered what terrible thing this Ancient had discovered that had caused him to be the target of such ire as he saw the evidence of.

The doctor threw a questioning look at Sheppard, wondering what was to become of their new friend. John pursed his lips, understanding the question and likely trying to arrive at an answer himself. "Aerien," he prompted, and the Ancient turned to regard the Colonel. "Will you come to Atlantis with us?"

The Ancient's response was not what either Beckett or Sheppard expected. "No," he said simply, without a moment's hesitation. "I must continue my work. Come."

He left them, heading with a specific destination in mind it seemed, for he did not waver from his path. Sheppard shrugged and motioned Beckett to follow. He looked a bit annoyed, but willing to let this play out.

They followed Aerien back to the creepy office down the hall. The strange scientist had already disappeared inside when the Lanteans reached the door. "I wonder what he's lookin' for?" Carson asked softly as Sheppard pushed it open.

"I don't know, Doc," Sheppard whispered in reply. Aerien was already in the adjoining lab, it seemed, for the office was empty. "Just keep your eyes peeled. You know Ancients and how 'funny' they can get."

"Aye," Beckett agreed readily. Even in their messages left on the databases of Atlantis the Ancients could be aloof and very cryptic. He could well understand the Colonel's need to keep things under control.

Sheppard opened the door to the lab and they entered, finding Aerien within. The Ancient scientist stood at a cupboard near the back, betraying no emotion or confusion as to the disarray surrounding them. Instead he was preparing an injection as if nothing were amiss. Ten thousand years was nothing to this man's drive to work.

The mood in the room changed from curious to uneasy. Sheppard took a few steps back, fingering his P-90 as if he weren't sure whether or not to raise it again. Aerien seemed unfazed when he turned and saw the Colonel's guarded stance. He simply took what looked like a tool from the table before him, aimed and just as the P-90 was lifted, fired the weapon. Carson stared in horror as John crumbled to the floor.

"He is alive," Aerien responded to the doctor's shock. He then aimed again.

Carson dove behind a gurney, surprised at himself for even moving that quickly. He scrambled towards the fallen P-90, but a rainfall of shots from Aerien's weapon prevented him from getting close enough to grab it. "What the bloody hell is going on?" he tried to shout, but couldn't get it out as the Ancient began upending the gurneys in the room. He had one chance and that was to get out of the lab, into the office and back out into the hall.

Well, it worked in theory, anyway. Carson crouched, then made a leap for the door, only to find stunning blasts dogging his footsteps the entire way. He grabbed at the handle in a fluster, but couldn't get it open in time. A bolt of energy consumed him and he was out before he even hit the floor.

* * *

It was getting dark outside and it showed. The complex was running on minimal power now; he had even managed to get Ronon and Teyla some air even if he couldn't unlock their disagreeable prison door. So at least no one was going to die—yet. Of course he wasn't holding his breath. He had eaten his last power bar thirty minutes ago and it just hadn't been enough. Rodney McKay was still annoyed, still hungry and very much sick of this place. 

He had abandoned the accursed terminal that wouldn't respond to his commands. A quick request had given him the location of Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Beckett, and a third life sign that had him worried. Trying to raise them over radio was useless, so he grabbed the nearest thing he could use to pummel the living crap out of an enemy and started towards the transport rings that would lead him to his friends.

He passed all the sights his four friends had passed; saw the candles, the clawed chair and the nature in its entire splendor. And at last, as he wandered the hallways carefully and quietly, night had fallen. The hall he was now standing in was dark, and he was debating on whether or not to light his flashlight.

In the end he decided against it. Better to play it safe and stake out his friends first. Still, he couldn't see a darn thing and it agitated him to have to squint and hold his hand out.

A moan and the barest hint of light betrayed he was on the right track someway down the path. He shambled towards the bit of blue seeping out of a door left ajar. Within the crack he could see what looked like a laboratory. Rodney strained to hear. There was another moan, but no talking, no clatter of tools moving or anything else at all. Closing his eyes, he pushed the door slightly open, gripped the heavy book he had grabbed, and waited for someone to catch him.

No one did. Or if they saw him open the door, they didn't care. McKay shoved it the rest of the way and saw the room empty—almost. A rustle to the right drew his attention. There was another groan and this time he recognized it. Carson.

He rushed in, darting looks here and there, then stopped at his friend's side. The doctor was on a bed, cuffed down and maybe it was just the eerie blue lights, but he looked pale. "This just got bad, didn't it?" he whispered.

Carson's lashes fluttered open. The Scot winced and tried to shift his weight, but couldn't because of the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. "Where am I?" he asked a little too loudly for Rodney's taste.

McKay shook his head and said, "Sssh! For god's sake, Carson." He brandished his book, watching the only other door in the room. No one came to see about the doctor. "What's going on?" he asked when he thought it was safe.

"Mmm," Carson groaned, closing his eyes again. His hands were clenched and his jaw held tight as if he were in pain. He didn't answer.

"Carson?" McKay put his hand on the doctor's jacket and jarred him.

Beckett clawed the bed beneath his fingers and said, "Lad," like it was a plea. His blue eyes looked crystalline in the azure glow of the room as he looked up again. "My head is killin' me. Don't…don't shake me."

Pursing his lips, McKay looked around for anything better than his book. He found a scalpel on the tray near his friend—a fact that left him a trifle nervous—and considered his options. He could try to get Carson off this table, but that would require breaking the chains barring his extremities. In the time it would take he could very well be caught by whoever had done this. Or he could go straight for the kill, take the knife and go into the adjoining room. "I'll be right back," he whispered, giving Carson a reassuring pat. The doctor winced.

McKay went back into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He jogged a few yards away, took out his radio and said, "McKay to Teyla. Please respond."

There was static on the other end. He could barely make out her voice as she said, "…here…r. McK….made any…gress?"

"Wonderful," he growled, rolling his eyes. "Listen, I don't know if you can hear me, but we've got company. Bad company from the looks of it."

"…again? You're brea…" she replied, then added in, "…going on?"

"Look, if you hear nothing else, just hear this," her told her, hoping beyond hope his message would get through. His message didn't have to be coherent, he hoped. If they could pick up on the tone of his voice, the words he said, perhaps they could glean that he was trying to warn them. "Uh…danger! Danger! God, I sound like that friggen robot on Lost in Space. We are in serious trouble, here. Ah, badness, pain…destruction, ten plagues of Egypt—I really hope one of these stupid words makes it through—just proceed with caution, okay? Be _careful_. Do you copy?"

The other line went dead. Rodney tried several times to reestablish the link, but it was gone. He rubbed his forehead, trying to think. He wasn't really a 'guns blazing' sort of guy, then there was both Beckett and Sheppard to consider. Could they wait for him to reconnoiter around until the right moment, perhaps after Ronon and Teyla had been freed? The physicist stood in agonized indecision. He could not hear screams, heard no fighting or thrashing about. Carson had seemed fine except for his headache.

McKay wandered to the door and listened again. He heard the doctor pulling at the cuffs that bound him. He slowly opened the entry again, hoping that he could get a little information before he had to choose. Beckett stilled as he approached, eyes dull and lips silent. "What happened?" McKay whispered.

"An Ancient," Beckett replied softly, still looking very much in pain. He took a ragged breath and sagged against the bed. "I don't know where John is."

"Do you know what this Ancient wants?" He couldn't afford to explore his surprise at the fact of just who it was, nor ask where the Ancient had come from, even though the questions burned on his tongue.

The doctor shook his head slowly. "He seemed normal at first. Then he led us here, took us by surprise. Right bloody bastard." He moaned, closing his eyes. "Ugh, I think I'm goin' ta die, lad."

McKay made a face. "Don't be stupid. I'll get you out of this, but I need time to find Sheppard." There was a clank from the adjoining room that started Rodney nearly out of his skin. Beckett opened his eyes again. Time was running out. "Do you think he'll be all right until we get Ronon and Teyla?"

"Sure," Carson whispered, drawing in a shaky breath. "Assumin' o'course, Aerien doesn't kill him while we're gone."

"Do you _really_ want to go looking right now? All I have is this tiny knife that probably wouldn't scratch a squirrel." McKay could see it now. Two mice brandishing a needle against a rat with a gun.

He sighed and examined the cuffs a little closer. Metal was locked around the doctor's wrists, latched together by what he discovered was a manual lock. He cursed beneath his breath. "Hello, electronically advanced society. Use keypads, duh." Of course it did occur to him that perhaps hackers like himself was the reason the maker of this contraption had chosen mechanical locks. That really ticked him off.

"What're you on about?" Carson asked weakly.

"Nothing." McKay replied, looking around for anything small and bendable. He decided then and there that he was going to fashion himself a lock pick just for annoying occasions such as this. A wire from a torn bundle of cables on a nearby tray caught his attention and he grabbed it, molding it into shape. "I used to do this in high school," he said softly, making conversation to keep the pressure of the moment from interfering with his skill. "Me and one of the other tech geeks used to go through the girl's locker room during swim practice."

The doctor rolled his eyes. "Ya come from sick roots, lad."

McKay shrugged indifferently, then bent over to listen to the tumblers in the lock. He was very aware it could take him a few minutes to figure out the pattern and while that didn't sound like much, it could mean the difference between getting caught and escaping.

He tapped one of the tumblers and it locked into place, then moved to the next one, cursing as it fell. "Ya seem a bit rusty," Carson observed.

"You wanna do this?" Rodney retorted quietly.

And then a thrill of fear pulsed through him. The door near him started to open. He barely had time enough to rip the wire out of the lock before diving behind the cover of the desk. He shoved himself under and listened.

"Awake, I see," a strange voice said. Rodney couldn't see what was going on, but Carson groaned out in pain and the physicist balled his fists, debating on what to do.

Carson took a deep breath, finding the fortitude to ask, "Where is Colonel Sheppard?"

Apparently, the Ancient didn't see any reason to respond, for he remained silent even when Beckett demanded a second time. The doctor took a hissing breath that could only mean more pain. Rodney tensed, about to spring into action to save his friend. And then nearly dropped when the desk flew off of him. The Ancient had kicked the table over his head. With wide eyes he gazed up at a very stern expression. "Did you think I couldn't hear?" he said darkly.

Straightening, not looking directly at his foe and yet mustering as much dignity as he could, McKay declined to answer in the same fashion in which Beckett had been treated. He glanced at his friend, seeing the doctor tense and shaking. "Carson, are you okay?" he asked through clenched teeth. Beckett didn't respond.

The Ancient did. McKay was rewarded with a swift punch to the stomach that sent him doubling over. He hissed in a breath, then tackled the unwary Ancient, not content to just give himself over for whatever purposes he had in mind. They plummeted to the floor with a great crash. Yet instead of fighting back the Ancient shoved his palms against Rodney's temples and closed his eyes.

McKay let out a feral yell as blinding pain lanced through his skull. He thought for sure he would 'follow the bright light' as they say, but he remained painfully alive and aware. When the hands let him go he fell backward. The Ancient hovered nearby, gasping for breath. McKay wanted to use that second of weariness against his foe, but found his limbs unwilling to cooperate.

The Ancient recovered and got to his feet. Rodney groaned as unkind fingers wrapped tightly around his right ankle. A wave of dizziness crashed through him like the tide on a shore as the victor dragged his prize from the office into the adjoining lab.

"What the hell did you _do_ to him?Carson?" he heard, but couldn't look to find out from where. So, Sheppard was indeed alive. That was good news, he thought vaguely, as he was pulled and locked into a holding cell at the back of the room.

A shadow blocked the light from Rodney's face. He looked up as Sheppard said, "McKay. Well, there go any plans for a surprise rescue." He didn't mention Ronon and Teyla deliberately to hide their presence. The Colonel sighed. "Welcome to Hell."

Rodney gave a tiny, cynical wave, then slumped.

* * *

Hehehe, whump at last. ;-) Thanks for reading, guys. :-) 


	5. Death Trapped

**Dark Element****  
**Death Trapped

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. Atlantis is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

The dark was stayed only by the soft glow coming from Ronon's flashlight. He was leaning casually against the wall. One knee was bent so that his arm could rest on it as they sat there in the prison bunker resting from a night of wearily trying to break through the door. They could only assume the worst after McKay's frantic warnings over the radio. It had been hours since then, with no word on whether or not he could get them out. 

Ronon's flashlight was pointed up, illuminating his shoulders and face as he glared across the room at nothing. Teyla was reminded of something similar that Colonel Sheppard had done one night when he was telling her a ghost story from Earth. Her lips tilted at the memory.

It was raining again. She could hear the thunder distantly as it echoed through the now open emergency ventilation shaft that McKay had found from his end. It was a start, at least. She could tell the difference between now and thirty minutes ago when their air had been running out. The atmosphere was fresh now, and the room was cold.

"You awake?"

Ronon's voice startled her. When she had awakened Teyla had decided not to rouse her companion straight away. He needed rest and as long as he thought she still slept he might just take it, so she remained on her side watching him, watching the shadows.

"I am awake," she confirmed, knowing it was time to start working towards escape again. No matter how futile both would keep trying until they just couldn't anymore. Somewhere out there their friends could be in very serious trouble, and they couldn't even radio to find out how bad for fear of increasing their danger.

She sat up slowly and stretched her sore muscles. Ronon was fishing through his jacket. "Are you hungry?" he asked, pulling out a power bar. He held it out to her.

"I have one left," she replied, reaching into her pocket. The truth was she was famished, but the possibility of being down here a long time was very real. They were going to have to ration. She opened the power bar and broke off a very small piece, noticing he didn't even do that much for himself. "You should eat."

He gave her a half-smile. "I will when I need to." Dusting off his hands on his pants, he got to his feet, and took the light towards the control panel. Before McKay had gone to try and find another control room, he had told them there could be an emergency release lever hidden somewhere so that prisoners couldn't find it, but the Ancients could use it if necessary. Ronon had torn apart half of one console looking for just such a thing, to no avail.

He crouched beside the console, ready to dig into the cables again. Teyla moved to join him, taking his flashlight to hold for him as he looked within the access point. "What do you think happened to them?" she asked for the sake of filling the oppressive quiet.

The warrior cleared a bundle of cable and took the light from her to peer into the darkness. "Didn't McKay say something about a robot?"

Teyla knit her brow in thought. "He said something about it being lost. A strange warning."

"Yeah, well, McKay's a strange kind of guy." He pushed his hair off his shoulder and started fishing through the other side. "Maybe it was a wild animal."

"They have guns," she reminded him with a smile.

"Maybe it was a big one." He shrugged. "Besides, you know him. It could have chased him up a tree and he would still be there waiting for it to get bored and run off." Quite suddenly he jerked his arm out with a hiss of breath.

Teyla turned the flashlight on the arm he was now cradling. "Are you all right?" A jagged cut marred the side of his hand.

His response was typical. "It's nothing." Ronon went back to work without complaint.

"You should let me wrap it," she countered, mindful of infection.

He shook his head and didn't reply otherwise. Teyla traced a line of blood he had left on the floor with her eyes. She wondered, not for the first time, what sort of things went on here. It was normal, of course, for any given place inhabited by the Ancients to have a brig. Yet there was something about this particular place that troubled her. It was as if the atmosphere was stifled somehow. She couldn't explain it, but the shadows left her unnerved.

"Does it bother you?" he asked. He had turned to look at her and caught her expression.

"What?"

"The dark."

Teyla shook her head softly. "The absence of light is a natural occurrence. It quiets the soul and gives the body a chance to rest. There is nothing to fear."

Ronon gave her a look. "Except what the darkness holds."

"Does it bother _you?"_ she asked.

He thought a moment, then shrugged. "Dark is dark." After a moment's silence he paused in his work and turned toward her. "Do you hear that?"

Teyla eyed him suspiciously. "Are you trying to frighten me?"

He shook his head and pointed towards the shadows at their backs. Teyla followed the direction and listened to the silence. Only it wasn't. She hadn't realized it until now, but there was a soft sound keeping the two of them company.

Shining the light, Teyla took to her feet and walked slowly towards the opposite side of the room. It grew more distinct with each step she took. Ronon stopped her when they were near the wall. Taking her hand in his, he pointed the flashlight and she inhaled sharply. There was water on the wall. Nearly a yard wide, it drizzled down the gray surface like rivers of blood and collected on the floor. Teyla lifted her foot and little droplets showered off her boot.

He moved the light upwards, following the water's path to the ceiling where he saw an open grate. The water was leaking from it. "It's too high to reach, even if you stood on my shoulders," he observed, trying to see up the shaft. "Looks like we're still at square one."

"You do not think it could flood?" Teyla asked him warily as she watched the sprinkles drip. She ran her toe through the puddle on the floor.

Ronon shook his head. "It's only the rain."

* * *

Morning broke over the horizon and its shining was what brought Carson from his fitful rest. His waking was dull and hazy. He could recall only bits and pieces of the night before. One thing that remained crystal clear was the headache that had plagued him. It still lingered, though in a much more endurable form. 

Beckett instinctively tried to reach up to smooth his hand across his tired eyes, but remembered as his wrist stalled at his hip. He could not move and because of that his muscles were stiff and pained. The metal bed he was on was cold, and a chill swept straight through his back to his bones. He had been left this way sometime in the night after a quiet encounter with their oh-so-gracious host.

He groaned and stared at the ceiling, trying to relax his tense form as much as he could. Aerien answered very few of his questions. He would not explain what he was doing beyond that he was looking for 'something'. Carson had asked him point blank if he were going to kill them, to which the Ancient had laughed. He had assured the doctor that no, they were not going to be killed if he could help it. Not exactly a promising response, but Beckett was thankful they weren't going to be murdered any time soon. It gave them time to work on escaping.

Then he remembered. McKay had come. He had tried to rescue him, but was interrupted. After that everything was a blur of agony. Recalling the terrible pain Aerien's touch had sent through him was almost as bad as the experience had been. Still, he relived it for the sake of searching his memory for any clues as to what had happened to Rodney. He could vaguely recall the man asking him something, but after that his memory was blank.

An hour of useless speculation and aggravated cursing passed. He wondered what had happened to Sheppard and McKay, whether or not Aerien knew about Ronon and Teyla. The sun swept into the window, illuminating the dim room like the calm before a storm. The door at the head of the room opened and the Ancient swept in, looking well rested and eager. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, his tone suggesting he really didn't care.

Carson shifted his weight uncomfortably, glaring at the man. "I don't suppose you're goin' ta let me down from this bed at all. I have ta go, ya know." He figured now was not the time for petty pride. Things were getting a bit serious in that particular arena.

Aerien paused a moment, then nodded slowly. "There's a place for that where your friends are, have no worries." He hovered above the doctor. Without warning he reached down, holding Carson by the face, forcing his eyelids open and peering into his irises. A bit panicked, the doctor tensed and made a noise he hadn't even been aware of making, trying desperately to blink as the air assailed his eyes.

The Ancient didn't say whether or not he found what he was looking for. He let go and Beckett closed his eyes while Aerien started unhooking the restraints around his legs. He was so tempted, in that moment, to kick the man in the face. Sorely tempted, but he knew if he did it would only make matters worse. As if guessing his thoughts, catching the doctor's gaze on him, Aerien gave him a sidelong glance and a smile.

Unhooking the wrist cuffs, he stood back, showed his energy weapon and ordered, "Get up."

Carson slowly complied, rubbing his wrists as he sat up. His arm smarted where the wood had cut him the previous day. He examined the tender cut, frowning at the large red and purple line running down his skin.

The Ancient had no patience for that. He grabbed for Beckett's coat and jerked him down with a show of surprising strength, then clamped a mobile set of cuffs on his wrists. Carson nearly tripped, but held his ground and shot the other man a dirty look. It didn't faze him. Aerien motioned to the lab door as if the doctor were an unruly child. He hated that about Ancients.

Holding his arm, he went into the lab and saw McKay glaring through one of the barred windows attached to the holding cells at the back of the room. "Carson, god, are you all right?" he asked, his ire melting. Sheppard came to stand beside him.

"I'm a'right, lads," he replied tiredly. He moved to approach the door that would lead him to them, cursing when Aerien shoved him towards the other one. The fact that he was being kept separate from his friends made him nervous, but he didn't let on. Aerien opened the cell door and motioned with his weapon for the doctor to get in.

Carson obeyed, doubting he had the energy to get into a major brawl at the moment. The door slammed shut at his back. He took a deep breath, looking around him. There was blood in the room, splashed on the walls and floors. He closed his eyes to hide the horrible sight for just one moment, then moved towards the door at the end of the room. As Aerien had said, there was a refresher here. A small one. He entered and looked at his reflection in a mirror that looked like it had suffered a punch. His eyes had dark circles under them.

He went wearily about his business and splashed water from the basin onto his face, reveling in the sweet, soft coolness of the liquid caressing his skin. Carson pulled tentatively at the bonds around his wrists, but couldn't find any weaknesses. Sighing, he left the refresher to return to the window and see what their host was up to.

Aerien had left the room, apparently. Carson turned towards a floor-to-ceiling window that joined his cell with that holding his friends. He peered inside and saw them sitting together on a bunk. Neither of them had cuffs on their hands. "Do either of you have any idea what he's plannin' on doin' ta us?"

It was Sheppard that responded, standing up to wander over. "No clue. We were hoping you would."

"Dunno, son." He glanced back out along the infirmary. Aerien kept the lights dim and there were no windows to allow the sun to brighten the laboratory. He sighed. "All he's done so far is give me a massive headache. Hasn't said a thing, though."

"Yeah," Sheppard replied dryly. "He seems to be a real bastard that way. I really hate when they do that. He gave me a nice headache too."

"Great," McKay hissed, flustered by this whole situation. Carson could sympathize. "So we're stuck with the universe's sickest Tylenol product tester. Well, I want my headache medicine, damn it."

Carson smiled wanly and lifted his chained hands to rub his cheek. The door at the head of the lab opened, breaking them out of their conversation. Carson walked back to the front of the cell to get a better look at what was going on. The Ancient had rejoined them, paying no mind to any of his prisoners. He held a book in his arms, a volume in which he started writing.

Something flew from the cell beside him and hit the Ancient's shoulder. Carson blinked, sure he had imagined it, until Aerien turned with a very serious glare. "I suppose a little breakfast is beyond your 'oh so evolved' needs," McKay said, drawing a groan from the Colonel. "Well, I happen to need food regularly, so if you wouldn't mind…?"

"_McKay_," Sheppard said in a low, warning tone. "Why don't you sit down for a while?"

McKay wasn't going to have it. The low blood sugar was already working on his emotions. "No, no. Mr. Holier-Than-Thou claims he wants to keep us alive. Well, to do that he's going to have to feed us."

Aerien took his book and left the room. Beckett heard what he presumed was Rodney flopping down on a bunk in the cell he shared with John. Knitting his brow, the doctor felt around his jacket, and finding his quarry, hunted through his pockets until he retrieved the power bar he had stored there. He stuck his arms through the bars between he and the other two men and called, "Colonel Sheppard?"

"Doc? Is that your last one?"

"Don't worry about it." He wiggled the power bar. "Rodney's the one who needs it."

John grunted, moving to take it, then cursed as Rodney pushed him aside to claim it for himself. Rodney snatched it hungrily. "Aw, gee, Carson," McKay said, with a grateful look as he unwrapped it. "Thanks."

"You didn't have to shove me," Sheppard growled.

"Shut up." McKay ripped the power bar and handed a portion back to the doctor. "Want half?"

To tell the truth Carson wasn't sure he could keep anything down at the moment. He still felt dizzy and doubted food was a good idea. "No. You eat it. It'd be wasted on me right now."

He wandered to the bunk in his own cell and sat down, leaning against the wall at his back. It was cold and the chill filtered through his jacket, caressing him like a deathly touch. He could hear Rodney and John talking, but was too tired to pay any attention to it or to the time that passed until Aerien returned to them. It must have been at least a half an hour or more, for Carson became aware that he had dozed off as he woke up to the sound of the energy weapon discharging.

His eyes flew open. Beckett raced up from his cot and to the bars as John yelled, "What the hell was that for?" McKay was sprawled unconscious on the floor.

Without an answer Sheppard was dragged out of the cell, fighting and cursing as the Ancient forced him along. Aerien grew tired quickly and knocked John over the head enough to daze him momentarily.

Carson watched helplessly as the Colonel was strapped down to one of the beds. "What are ya doin' ta him?" the doctor demanded, staring in dread as Sheppard's shirt was ripped down the center.

Aerien removed a scalpel from a nearby tray. As he smoothed back the black cloth covering the Colonel's side Sheppard tried to shy away, but it was no use. The Ancient traced a line down Sheppard's flesh mercilessly. It was frightening to watch as John writhed with each new cut, holding back groans of pain that were the only sounds in the quiet laboratory.

"You son of a…" the Colonel growled from between clenched teeth when Aerien let up on him. A fist to the jaw cut him off. Sheppard slumped back, his chest heaving.

The Ancient smeared John's blood along his fingers and palms liberally, then retreated to his workstation. Carson didn't care what he was doing; his only concern was for his friend and so he surveyed the damage. Sheppard's side bled all over the bed he was on. Beckett instinctively ticked off every medical procedure he should perform in response, unable to carry out a single one. "Colonel?" he said gently.

Sheppard groaned, turning his head to see where the voice had come from. "Doc?" he said weakly, trying to free himself of his bonds. "How bad?"

"You'll be fine," he replied, not sure he really would be if Aerien didn't return soon. Beckett turned angry eyes on the Ancient.

"Do somethin' for him, or for pity's sake let me!" he shouted, jerking his cuffs into the bars to jar Aerien's concentration. It was no good. The Ancient held his hands up before him, eyes shut as if he were locked in prayer. The red liquid dripped down his arms as tears.

And then he fell forward, his bloody hands breaking his fall against the workstation. Carson watched the Ancient struggle with his balance, his gasps for air betraying lungs fighting for sustenance. "I'm getting closer," he whispered, not without a note of satisfaction in his tone.

Aerien smiled and gazed at Beckett with a hungry expression that startled the doctor.

* * *

In the words of my dear friend Deana - Whump Rules! ;-) At least to write. Is it wrong to like writing this way? ;-D 


	6. God Complex

**Dark Element****  
**God Complex

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. Atlantis is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

"Okay, let's see," McKay said thoughtfully. The voice jarred Sheppard out of his not-so-pleasant snooze. Turning his head he saw the physicist leaning against the front of his cell, arms draped through the bars. He looked angry. Beckett mirrored his position, watching every move their host made. "We've ruled out all the sane things you could be doing, so why don't we talk about the crazy ones?"

John groaned at the throbbing in his side. With each move he made there was a cold, sticky pull of fabric from clothing that had stuck to his wound. Aerien hovered above him with a pale expression of interest.

"You wish to know what I am doing," he mused, pulling back the shirt on Sheppard's side. He clenched his jaw at the stinging sensation that followed. Aerien continued to speak to Rodney. "But would you understand if I tried to explain? Why waste my time?"

"Please." McKay gave him a nonplussed look. "You Ancients are all alike. You think you're the only ones capable of anything resembling thought. Well, I've got news for you…"

A device was applied to John's side roughly. He jerked as little metal arms shot into his flesh, clinging painfully to his body. "Bastard," he growled, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

Aerien bent down to peer at the device as it warmed up. "Don't exaggerate, McKay. I concede one day your people may rival my own, but now you are still as babes."

"Yeah, why don't you try us?" Sheppard pressed. His mind jogged through the meditation techniques Teyla had taught him, searching for something that might help him ignore what his body was feeling. He wasn't sure he could calm himself enough to use any of them, though.

The Ancient met his gaze and shared it for a long moment. "Your resistance is admirable. Such strength of the soul." The corner of his lips quirked at that. "Tell me, are you aware of aether?"

"Aether?" It was McKay that responded, which was fine with Sheppard, as he didn't know what the hell Aerien was talking about. The physicist obviously had a clue. "Oh geez, I knew you were crazy, but come on. Don't give me that quintessence crap."

Aerien seemed unperturbed by McKay's sarcasm. "I knew you were too simple to comprehend dark matter."

"No, no." McKay waved his hand angrily, unwilling to be dismissed. "No. I see where you're going with this. The unifying force within everything, the so-called 'soul' if you will. Theories. Dark matter and aether as you're describing it are two different things. Any schoolyard idiot knows that."

"One would think that, wouldn't they?" the Ancient patronized in bored tones. "One who doesn't understand the intricacies of energy." He touched the device on Sheppard's hip. The Colonel tensed hard as a wave of pain shot through him. It was like a wave that started there in his hip and continued on through the rest of him. "Energy is everywhere. One only has to learn how to harness it."

"So why don't you ascend? Is that what it's all about? Becoming energy? Learning the secrets, yadda yadda?"

Aerien smiled at Dr. McKay as he unlocked the bonds around Sheppard's wrists and ankles. "Ascension? Pitiful. Why settle for anything less than being god?" He swept Sheppard off the bed carelessly. Both Carson and Rodney let out gasps as the Colonel fell to his knees, cradling his side with a cry. The Ancient nudged him with his boot. "To your cell."

Sheppard rolled his eyes and fought his way to his feet, too proud to demand help from the monster that had done this. Lines of tension marked his face as he took a step, hissed in a breath and paused to ride through the pain. Aerien merely studied his movements, offering none of the help his captive refused to ask for.

"You're insane," McKay accused as he opened the cell door for Sheppard. He ushered the Colonel into McKay's helping hands, shut the door on him and locked it.

"Let it rest," Sheppard said, seeing the scientist's glare. He motioned over to where Carson was peering through the bars at him. "Better let the mother hen take a look." McKay eased him down on the floor near the doctor.

Beckett gave a ghost of a smile. "One o'these days you'll be glad for my mother hennin' ya here and there."

"Okay, Doc," John said weakly, pulling back the black shirt to show his marred skin. "What's this thing he's got on me?"

Beckett reached between the bars to examine the device. Now that John could view it, he almost wished he hadn't. The skin was livid around the flat panel clutching a large section of his wounded side. Carson touched the device. "Looks ta be some sorta transmitter. I've seen a few similar objects back on Atlantis. It's probably set on some sort of continuous scan cycle that feeds information into our 'esteemed' friend's terminal."

"Is it supposed to cause pain?" John asked with a hard breath. He touched the skin near it gingerly, very aware that the throbbing had not died away. It was starting to make him feel nauseous. He could feel the waves coursing all the way through to his fingertips. Carson shook his head, looking puzzled. John stretched back on the floor and glared at the white ceiling above. "So, anyone wanna explain aether to me?"

"Oh, god," Rodney groaned. He rolled his eyes, but Sheppard could see him getting into scientist gear. "Aether can be interpreted in a few different ways. Some theorized it was what filled the sky above Earth. If that sounds medieval and trite it's because it is. It's an all-unifying energy that makes us all one big happy family. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

John grunted. "Sounds like Star Wars to me."

The scientist nodded. "Exactly. Anyway, our resident nut is tying this…this sci-fi _fantasy_ into dark matter. You know, the theory of what causes the expansion of the universe? Personally, I just think he's crazy, but well, he's powerful too. A nice, comforting combination, huh? We're probably going to die horrible deaths."

"Not yet we aren't," John sighed, rubbing his skin. He looked at Carson inquiringly. "Any chance of getting this thing off?"

"Aye, lad," the doctor responded mildly. "Might take a good bit o'your skin with it, though. It's attached itself to your muscle."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Well, good. We wouldn't want it falling off, now would we? I sure hope Ronon and Teyla are getting ready to save our butts." He noticed McKay choke at that. The Colonel knit his brow. "What?"

McKay crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. "About that. I meant to tell you, really. It must have slipped my mind during all the commotion."

"_What?_" John demanded again, his voice raising an octave.

"They're, ah, stuck."

Sheppard blinked. "Stuck."

"Yeah," Rodney replied grumpily. "Seems some genius had the bright idea to split up and well, now they're locked in a big dark dungeon. It was all I could do to get them breathable air, okay? Not that that'll help them much when they starve to death." The scientist rubbed his stomach reflexively.

John closed his eyes. "Tell me you're joking. I don't care if it's a lie." The situation had just become a whole lot more complicated and he was _not_ in the mood for complicated. He wasn't sure any of them had the energy right at the moment.

As if he had read Sheppard's mind, the doctor reflected those thoughts, saying, "That leaves us with one more question."

"What's that?" McKay asked.

Carson leaned his forehead against the bars tiredly. "Who's goin' ta save who?"

* * *

The hour was late. Most of the illumination had been dimmed down for the night, save a soft azure glow coming from the main part of the laboratory. Silence suggested the three prisoners within were now asleep, a truth confirmed in only two cases. Carson was awake. What little rest he had managed had been troubled and difficult given his surroundings, but adding insult to injury something had awakened him prematurely.

He didn't move, didn't open his eyes. There was still a shred of hope he could reclaim that which he had lost, after all. And so he remained still and wished for all the world he would lose consciousness again so he could escape the bad dream that was reality.

And then he realized there was a hand on him.

Carson jerked back on his bunk and the hand flew off his forehead. His heart pounded as he gazed into the gray eyes boring down into him. "What the bloody hell are ya doin' ta me?" he hissed, unnerved.

"Silence," Aerien snapped, reaching again to touch his head. The doctor waved his head to evade the touch, even going so far as to shove the Ancient away. His youthful visage took on an almost vicious appearance. "You will wake your companions and they will watch helplessly."

"Don't touch me," Carson growled, sitting up and scooting away. "Sa help me. What the bloody hell d'ya want with me?"

Aerien looked down on him, studying every move, every expression clinically. "You're afraid," he whispered, watching with those eerie eyes that seemed to stare into the soul. "You have every reason to be."

"Why?"

"It's going to be a hard road for you." The cold finality of that statement left Carson chilled. Aerien gazed with soft abstraction at the floor. "Knowledge is always a hard road for those with energy as bright as yours."

Beckett shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know what that was supposed to mean, but as long as Aerien was talking and not torturing he could say whatever he wanted. "No offense, lad, but I thought we were callin' it dark energy."

"Even the shadows can be measured." He watched Beckett. There was something ageless about that gaze, something wise and young at the same time. This man was fathomless, yet his next words revealed a part of the strange picture. "I was a healer once."

"What happened?" Carson asked, trying to understand what he was up against.

The reply was not what he expected. "It became unsatisfying." Aerien approached again him, face set in grim determination.

Carson nervously got to his feet and backed away. "And just what d'ya think you're goin' ta do ta me?" he demanded, searching for anything he could say or do to stop this. The Ancient glared at his continued defiance. "Our people will come for us. Ya don't want that kind o'trouble."

A quiet, confident sound fell like a lash upon the doctor's ears. Aerien laughed at his words as if they were nothing. "Is that a threat?"

"It's the truth."

"Then you threaten God." The Ancient closed in on him, hands outstretched.

Carson threw himself into a defensive stance. He pulled at the cuffs holding his wrists together, angry that they barred him. "You're mad!" he said as the Ancient took hold of his jacket. Using his cuffs as a weapon, the doctor wrapped one of Aerien's wrists between his own two and twisted with all his might. His captor hissed a breath, whirling Beckett into the wall.

The wall was very hard, a bit of knowledge he became quite intimate with in a few short seconds. His back slammed against the surface and all thought processes stopped cold. Carson groaned, then shoved Aerien as he neared again. "Ya can't just do this!" he tried to reason, but he was sure his words were falling on deaf ears. "Ya said ya were a healer, well, stop and think for a moment, will ya? I'm a person, the same as you are, and ya can't just treat me like I'm some sorta experiment."

The Ancient shook his head with such a cold expression the doctor shivered. "No. You are but clay to be molded at the will of any being that possesses such power as to change you. Who are you to this cold, dark universe? Do you understand how infinitesimal you are? How meaningless this pitiable way of existence truly is?"

"I don' believe that," Carson responded firmly. He backed off as the Ancient started for him.

By now Sheppard and McKay were both fully awake, standing at the bars even as Aerien had suggested, watching without any hope of intervening. "Damn it, Aerien, leave him alone!" the Colonel growled, still favoring his side. He pointed through the bars at their captor. "You want someone, take me instead!"

Aerien did not respond. He was focused on Carson like a predator with no fear, only the target in mind, watching every move through those malevolent, pale eyes. The doctor didn't give Aerien time to finish his move. Determined not to give in so easily, he threw himself into the Ancient and drove him down to the floor.

"So, the healer has a spark after all," he mocked, backhanding Carson as he tried to pin the Ancient down.

For a moment the doctor paused at the pain; it was a moment too long. Aerien grabbed hold of his jacket again and threw Beckett into the stone wall at the back of the cell. His head hit and light flashed before his eyes. The next thing he was aware of was being dragged to his bunk where Aerien shoved him chest-first onto the metal bed, forcing him to kneel.

Hands slid through his hair and paused over his temples. Aerien's hold was strong, and the pressure on his head made the doctor groan. Then the waves began again. It was like a vibration starting in his head, trailing down his spine, bleeding into his extremities until he could barely breathe. He was being ripped apart and forced into himself at the same time. His heart throbbed in his chest, his wrists and temples in a relentless dance of terror that moved with the flow of what was happening.

He didn't know what it was the Ancient was doing to him, but as each second passed the pain and panic worsened until he thought he would scream. Or maybe he was screaming and just couldn't hear himself over the fear pulsing through him.

Aerien leaned over his back and the weight drove Carson against the edge of the bunk, causing him to choke from loss of breath. "I'm going to show you something," the dark scientist whispered near his ear. "I'm going to open your mind up to the true horror of this universe, to the chaos that runs rampant in every dark corner."

Sheppard was in a rage, yelling at the Ancient things that Beckett couldn't quite grasp. He was aware of the cold chill in the room, the rough floor under his knees and his own shaking. These were tiny things, meaningless and ephemeral.

Then he became aware of other things, slowly at first. It was like walking through a room that grew larger and larger, whose darkness expanded with each step, surpassing the darkest possibilities imaginable.

And then Aerien opened the floodgates and the light of a thousand suns coursed through him. Carson widened his unseeing eyes, gasping as the enormity assaulted him. His hands pressed against the bed beneath him, curling as he tried to brace himself, but there was nothing to hold onto. He couldn't make sense of even a tenth of what was rushing through him. It was too much, too large for him to ever hope to decipher. It was pain and death and darkness on a cataclysmic level, more than any human could comprehend in himself. But he saw one thing that burned itself into his thoughts with stunning detail. Aerien's dark aspirations towards unlimited power began with Carson, and by the end of it the doctor could see he would never be the same.

His head pounded and warmth trickled down from his nose. He truly thought that he would die in that moment.

Then the darkness returned and the universe retreated. Aerien shut the door, but did not let Beckett go as he held him pinned and whispered, "Do you see how meaningless you are? I feel your fear of the future. You fear the darkness in your own soul. But I can give you meaning. I can spare you the shadows that you so fear."

Carson sagged against the bunk in a daze. He could feel spidery tendrils wrapping around his mind, stealing who he was, bleeding his emotions dry. He didn't know what was happening to him, could barely keep his thoughts straight. Aerien held him fast, keeping him locked against the bunk, unable to escape it.

"What are you doing to him?" he heard Sheppard ask. The voice was a reassurance that he wasn't alone with the abomination torturing him, yet at the same time the sound of it was as sharp as a lance through his brain. The doctor was vaguely aware of moving his hand as if he could reach toward the sound of his friend's concern, just to wrap himself into something kind and less frightening. But try as he might, he just couldn't reach the comfort he so needed.

He heard Aerien's answer to Sheppard ring through his thoughts before the Ancient even spoke the words, "I am breaking him."

"_What!?_" It was Rodney. The sound of his fear made Carson moan. If they would just stop talking…

"S-stop," he tried to beg, shaking his head in Aerien's grasp. The Ancient pressed him back down against the hard surface, keeping him down. Carson felt his hands go cold as he clawed in torment, moaning as he tried to resist the waves of agony wracking through him.

An eternity later he felt Aerien's terrible touch leave his mind. The doctor shivered in his arms as Aerien leaned down, pressing his mouth close to his ear. "Resist all you will. I will get what I am seeking, make no mistake."

And then the voices of his friends and of his enemy faded away. Carson gave himself to the darkness of repose without a fight.

* * *

Again, thank you all for the wonderful reviews:-) I'm glad you're enjoying+hands out cookies shaped like Sheppard+


	7. Tears of the Ancients

**Dark Element****  
**Tears of the Ancients

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. Atlantis is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

The three men were alone in the laboratory. Aerien had not returned since his little stunt with Carson and they had no way of knowing how much time had passed. It felt like forever to Colonel Sheppard.

The doctor was still lying on his side, half beneath his bunk and half sprawled along the floor of his cell. Sheppard had been watching him for any signs of wakefulness. Above Carson the single source of illumination above was malfunctioning, flickering maddeningly like one of those old time, black and white movies that shuddered across the screen. Other than that and their own light above the rest of the lab was in darkness.

Rodney was yammering. Now Sheppard could appreciate the man was very worried right now, not to mention starving and being driven half-mad by his need for sugar, but if he didn't quiet down in a few minutes, the Colonel was going to have to take some sort of action. There was a pressure right above his left eye that was threatening to invade the right side of his head and the other man was not helping.

"We need to get him up!" McKay growled, pacing back and forth before the bars. He had been doing that for at least twenty minutes.

Leaning against the opposite side, watching the lights inside Carson's cell dance, John retorted, "Just let him sleep it off, Rodney. We don't know what he's been through."

The physicist remained steadfast. He turned towards Sheppard with a frown. "Sleep it off? It's been hours and hours…

"We don't _know_ it's been hours…"

"Look, maybe your brain is too simple to calculate an easy equation like the passage of time, but I'm telling you it's been long enough! We let him stay there like that he might sleep himself off to the pearly gates if you get my meaning! We wake him now!"

Sheppard rolled his eyes. He had a private fantasy of smacking Rodney upside the head just then, but didn't let on. McKay was afraid. Hell, he was too.

As it was, the scientist wasn't going to let things lie and the only reason John didn't stop McKay when he reached through the bars was that a part of him wanted Carson awake too, for good or bad. He was starting to get worried.

Rodney knelt and rested his hand on Carson's shoulder, shaking gently. The doctor moaned, stubbornly remaining groggy until his friend shook a little harder. "Come on, Carson. I need to know if you're all right."

"Mmm?" Beckett hummed, shifting slowly. His hands went up to his forehead, smoothing lazy circles as if to blot out pain. "Rodney?"

The scientist sat back. "Sorry," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck uncertainly. "I didn't mean to wake you, but we were getting a little worried."

Beckett sat up slowly, closing his eyes as if the act made him dizzy. "I…I know," he murmured, sounding as though he were too sick to speak.

He was very pale. Blood had dried along the skin beneath his nose, and his expression looked lost. John felt his worries deepen. "How you feeling, Doc?" he asked softly. Holding his hand over his aching side, he crawled across the floor so he could be near the bars.

Carson ran his hands along his forehead and eyes tiredly "I'm a'right," he groaned, taking a deep, shivering breath. As the doctor leaned back against the wall Sheppard watched his hands shake. He had never seen his friend look so ragged.

He exchanged a look with Rodney, then bent his head, trying to get into Carson's field of vision. "You don't look all right." He waited a minute. "Carson?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Every sound made him quiver, John noticed, but said nothing. What could he say? He couldn't imagine what Beckett had been through. "I think I hit my head pretty hard," the doctor added with a wince. "It's killin' me."

"Yeah, not to mention what Dr. Demented did to you," Rodney hissed, leaning back on his hands. He glared at the wall.

There was a momentary pause. Carson tensed and Sheppard guessed that was exactly the wrong path to start down at the moment. Those haunted blue eyes rested on the stained floor beneath him as Rodney continued. "What _did_ he do to you?"

Carson shivered and shut his eyes. He obviously hadn't wanted them to ask. It must have been bad, too bad to relive so soon. He turned his head to hide his face, but John saw the sudden mist in his gaze. It rattled John inside to see this. "I dunna know all what he did. It was…" Carson stopped talking, shaking his head.

"Don't worry about it," John assured him, sensing now was not the time for grave discussion. He reached in to tug the cuff of the doctor's pants playfully. "As soon as he opens this door I'm gonna kick his ass. Then we'll all have a beer in the mess hall."

"You'll make matters worse, lad," the doctor warned quietly, shooting a hazy look at the transmitter. "You're not in any condition ta fight."

Sheppard gave him a wan smile. "Not in any condition? I'm breathing, aren't I?" He was kidding, but there was a very real intention there. He had the urge to hurt their host right about now and wasn't going to let a little cut on his side stop him.

Carson shook his head, about to say something to deter him, but the words died on his lips as he again rubbed his forehead. He seemed to get lost in the pain, letting out a hard groan. Drops of sweat beaded on his skin, glistening in the flickering light.

"Carson?" Rodney asked nervously. He turned to John with worried eyes. "This is bad."

"No kidding," John groaned, getting to his knees. He tried to reach his arm through the bars, but Carson was just out of his range. "Doc, can you hear me?"

"Aye," he replied, holding his head. "I'm a'right. It just keeps comin' in waves. I'll be…I'll be fine."

Rodney shook his head. "Yeah, like hell, Carson. Get over here, would you?" The doctor turned his head and managed strength enough to glare. McKay ignored that and motioned him over. "Come on."

Carson let out a breath and moved tentatively closer. "I'm tellin' ya, I'm fine," he insisted, settling down beside the bars. His eyes flew shut and he let out a whimper, then set his jaw in frustration.

"Fine, huh? Let me see. Open your eyes." McKay nudged Carson's hands back away from his face and looked into his wet eyes. "Dizzy?" he asked in a clinical tone.

"Lord help if you're doctorin' me." Beckett sighed, looking at McKay through his exhaustion. "It's just a headache."

Rodney hummed, "Uh-huh," and sat back again. "Concussion headache. Why don't you stay awake with us for a while, hmm? I know you'd probably rather not, but well, wouldn't we all like to be under the affects of an altered state? I know I could go for a nice vodka or twenty about now. God, I hate this place."

The doctor groaned in reply, but remained sitting. To tell the truth Sheppard felt he could go for an altered mind state too, in a similar form to what McKay was implying. There were a few people he had met that he couldn't stand to watch suffer and Carson was one of them. He sighed at the dried blood on the doctor's face and gripped the bottom of his torn shirt. "Why don't we get that blood cleaned off?" he said, ripping a corner off. "McKay, you wanna take this and get some water on it?"

And suddenly they weren't alone. The lights in the lab came on and heavy footfalls betrayed the presence of the Ancient keeping them captive. Carson's demeanor changed from pain to fear as he watched his door.

But Aerien didn't go for him this time. His shadow filtered in through the window above John and Rodney. "It's your turn again, Sheppard. Come."

John stuffed the ripped portion of his shirt into McKay's hand. "Keep an eye on him," he ordered, nodding towards Beckett. The Colonel gave Rodney a look he hoped conveyed his intent that things might get rough in a minute or two. The physicist got it, all right, if his nervous expression was any indicator. He wanted so badly to say_, 'If you seen an opportunity get Carson and run'_, but there was no way.

And so he stood, trusting McKay to do the right thing anyway, without being preempted. John made the choice then that it was now or never. He had to act while Aerien had the door open. Steeling himself, he turned on his foe. Before the Ancient had time to assimilate what was happening, the Colonel threw himself into Aerien, taking him down to the floor with a crash. He groaned hard when pain ripped through his side.

"Oh god!" he heard Rodney yell in a panic.

Sheppard didn't wait around for backup. He sent his fist flying down into the Ancient's jaw. Aerien's head snapped back, but he remained aggravatingly conscious. So Sheppard did it again, but this time Aerien didn't hesitate or strategize.

His side felt as if it had been ripped open. John nearly collapsed at the white-hot agony that burned through his skin as their captor clawed his wounds. Enraged, he brought his fist down again, as hard as his anger would allow, then fell before he could see the results.

"Colonel, are you okay?"

McKay's voice kept him grounded, gave him something to cling to in order to stay conscious. He opened his eyes and saw that Aerien was not moving. "Bastard," he hissed, then laid his head back down on the floor. He had to get the others moving, and said, "Get Carson and go."

He didn't expect McKay to actually say anything else. Okay, maybe a '_We can't leave you,_' or '_I'll help you walk_,' but he didn't say either of those things. "Well, I would love to do that. I really would. But see, in your little struggle someone apparently kicked the cell door shut. I can't open it."

Sheppard opened one eye. "Crap."

"Precisely."

The Colonel began to pull himself up. He had to stop about halfway and adjust his speed to accommodate the inferno he felt on his side. Blood spattered the floor, the Ancient's clothing. His blood. John glared at the sight of it, then forced back his emotions. There were other things to worry about right now. He resumed his task of simply getting into a seated position. He put voice to his pain. He couldn't hold back.

When he finally made it to his feet he could hardly recall the trip up. John staggered to the door while McKay watched, unable to aid him. For a long moment he could only lean there against it.

There was a touch pad interface near the handle. When he could finally stomach the idea of moving for long enough, he pressed his hand onto it and focused his thoughts on opening the lock. Nothing happened. He tried a command as simple as opening the door. Still nothing.

When he looked up at the window, McKay shook his head, saying, "Oh no." Aerien stirred below and the physicist's voice went up an octave as he repeated, "Oh _no_. No no no." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to put his brilliance to use to save himself and his friends. He looked pained when he arrived at the answer. "Just go."

"What?" The Colonel shook his head.

McKay thrust his arm through the bars, pointing towards the lab door. "He's coming to! Just go before he wakes up! Get help!"

John turned as Aerien shifted his weight lightly. There was no time. "I'll be back for you," he whispered, looking McKay in the face. "I swear to god."

"Yeah, okay," McKay said, waving his hand. "Bring me a Big Mac. And just go!"

The Colonel wasted no time in heading towards the exit. His mind whispered how futile this attempt was with each step, each throb his movements sent jarring into his wounded flesh. He didn't listen, though.

John used whatever furniture he could find for support as he half-hobbled out of the laboratory. There was no brilliant sunlight shining from the windows in the grand office. Sounds assaulted his ears. Wind howled and thunder screamed. He looked outside and saw nothing but lightening and heavy rain.

The sheer violence of the storm kept him stunned for a mere handful of seconds before he started out again. The hall was dim when he reached it. His thoughts were trapped in a haze of pain and blood loss, so his choice of direction wasn't as certain as he would have liked. He hoped he was returning to the transport rings, but in retrospect he discovered he just couldn't lay down any bets.

Not that it mattered. It was only a few labored steps before a voice robbed him of the responsibility of dragging himself to get help. "Just where would you go?" Aerien asked coldly, approaching from behind. "I've closed off the transport rings."

Sheppard turned, prepared to fight to the death if need be. He nodded towards a window. "Fine. I'll take my chances with the storm." The Ancient had a weapon trained on him, true, but giving up wasn't in John's DNA.

Aerien laughed at him, then whipped across the hall. Pressing the gun to his head, he took Sheppard by the arm and jerked him painfully down a side hallway. This was it. The pain was too great. John felt himself start to tremble.

He was shoved to his knees before an exit to the outside world. The Ancient hurled open the doors and wind and water gusted in. Lightening filled the sky in a continuous dance that Sheppard had never seen the likes of before. It didn't stop, and touched down all too frequently. A tree in the distance exploded from one of the strikes.

"Do you see what my power has wrought?" Aerien yelled above the storm. He knelt down beside Sheppard, holding him up so he could look. Another tree crashed to the earthen floor. If he had done this… "Do you still want to try your chance with the weather?"

Sheppard didn't reply; knew it was pointless to argue at this point. Glaring at the storm he made a vow to himself, to his friends and an innocent universe that did not deserve such madness unleashed upon it. He didn't know how, he didn't know when, but so help him he was going to kill this man.

* * *

Thunder made the earth quiver. There was a crash from somewhere above that startled Teyla, causing her to whip her gaze back towards the grate once praised for bringing them oxygen. Now she almost cursed it. Her feet were soaked in rainwater that had nowhere else to go, now that it had made it's way from the sky into the dark bunker.

Ronon followed the direction her eyes took, wiping his brow with his arm. "It can't go on forever," he asserted as water poured down the side of the wall, bringing mud and leaves with it.

She wanted to be comforted by that statement, but the deluge gave her increasingly worrisome feelings. The water level had already surpassed her ankle. There were no drains in the floor. "Be that as it may, I believe it is becoming crucial that we find a way out of here."

"No disagreements there." He stared at the grate for a long moment, considering their options. There simply was no emergency release valve that he could find. "All right, we go up," he decided after a moment.

Teyla turned towards him. "Up?"

Ronon nodded. "There's no way we're getting out that door. Not without McKay."

"But I thought you said the grate was unreachable?"

"There has to be something to stand on in here." He directed the flashlight here and there. There were certainly a lot of doors and consoles in the room. Ronon slogged through the rain when his eyes fell on something across the way. Teyla followed, gazing at what appeared to be a weapon's locker. It was taller than either of them stood. Ronon shoved at the cabinet, causing it to teeter slightly. "Can we move it?"

"It's heavy," he responded simply, then shoved again without warning. It swayed and Teyla backed away, startled. Ronon took a deep breath, groaned hard and shoved a third time. This time it moved.

"Let me help." She motioned him to move and he did so she could press her back against the locker. "On three. Ready? One. Two. Three."

They pushed with all their strength and managed to slide it a foot from its original position. Teyla nearly fell into the pool at her feet in exhaustion. But they weren't finished. She looked up and saw the grate a full fifteen feet away from them.

"We'll make it," he told her, and she knew her brief rest was over. Teyla gave him a pale look of thanks, then grit her teeth as they began to push again. The burden was on him, mostly. She gave it her all, but she could feel him driving like a machine. His strain gained voice as he yelled out.

And then it was done. Teyla slumped against the locker, her lungs fighting for air. She watched as Ronon bent down, gathered water with his hands, then splashed his face. He was looking up at the grate again. "You're going to have to get on my shoulders."

Letting out a groan, she straightened. Ronon crouched low, and not without apprehension Teyla climbed onto his back. He straightened slowly so she could keep her balance as she hugged the cabinet until she was high enough to climb onto the top. It was already soaked when she crawled onto the surface and stood up carefully.

"Can you reach it?" Ronon asked, watching her.

Bracing herself against the wall, she turned her attention towards the grate. It was just out of her reach unless she pushed herself onto her toes. "I can't reach it," she finally reported, her frustration mounting. Even on her toes her fingertips just barely reached the surface.

"Can you see anything?"

She looked up beyond the metal shutters and saw sickly light shining around something blocking a hole about thirty feet above her. Teyla felt her stomach muscles clench in worry at the vision. There was no way they were going to climb up that. Turning to tell him the bad news, she paused as a crash filled the air above her.

The floodgates of terror flew open. Water forced its way down the shaft and knocked her off the weapons locker. With a yell of fear Teyla fell and crashed into Ronon. They hit the ground hard. Rainwater gushed from the grate, pressing them both to the wet floor.

Teyla felt herself shoved out of the way of the waterfall. Getting to her feet, painfully aware of the stress her fall had placed on her body, she stumbled towards Ronon as he fought his way out of the falling flood. "Are you all right?" she shouted above the rushing waters.

"I'll live!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her back. "I think now we're in a bit of trouble," he admitted simply, staring at the rising water.

Teyla shivered as the cold liquid climbed up her legs. Frantically, she searched for the flashlight and saw it shining out from beneath the water. The water had not damaged it, and she reclaimed it, pointing it towards the grate. There was no sign that the water was going to stop. "What are we going to do?" she asked, shoving wet hair out of her face.

"I don't know." He looked around for anything they could use, any way to escape. It seemed only seconds had passed before the water was waist high. At that point he fixed her with a grave expression. "Now we wait."

"We can't give up!" she admonished, though in truth she saw no other course of action.

Ronon shook his head at her. "No. We wait for the water to rise. Then I'll shove that grate away from the shaft if I have to kill myself to do it. It's not going to be easy. I promise you that. But it's our only shot."

Teyla swallowed at the implications. A hundred contingencies raced through her thoughts. It was only through her meditative techniques she could banish them beneath the surface to keep herself from giving way to panic, but the fear loomed deep within her.

They waited. The water poured as though a river had covered the earthen surface above. Maybe it had. Maybe it wouldn't matter if they could swim to the top.

The water rose higher and higher, finally lifting them off their feet. It wouldn't be long. Teyla steeled herself and held on to the wall to give herself some sort of support. It was little comfort.

When the ceiling was within Ronon's reach, they swam for the grate. Rusted release levers held it over the shaft, and as he fought to turn them he cut his hand, but didn't stop working. Teyla held him afloat as he struggled with it, then both sighed in relief when it fell from the ceiling. He thrust it aside, then looked her in the eyes. "It's almost time. Hold your breath for as long as you can."

"I will," she promised, nodding her head, blinking back water in her eyes.

They bumped into the ceiling and both moved closer to the shaft. "See you on the surface," he said with a quiet smile, then took a deep breath.

They plunged beneath the waterfall. Teyla couldn't see, could barely think straight as she flailed in the rising waters. She could feel it beating on her as it tumbled down the shaft. For a time she lost track of Ronon, unable to feel him in the freezing water, unable to ear anything except for the terrible rushing noise of it falling. She couldn't even discern whether or not she was still in the shaft. Every second seemed to be screaming that it had been too long, that they should have surfaced by now. Her lungs burned.

And then the water stopped. Teyla broke free of the water's clutches and gasped hard when her face met the air. It didn't last long enough, for she fell back down into the water surrounding her, nearly choking on the water that won past her lips.

Strong arms wrapped around her, shoving her back up towards the precious oxygen that waited. This time she remained above the water long enough to open her eyes. Ronon was pressed quite close against her, his chest heaving as he watched to make sure she was okay.

And then, when she could finally think straight, she noticed it. The shaft continued above them another ten feet. "Teyla," Ronon said, breaking her from her dejected thoughts. She turned into his dark-eyed gaze as he continued, "If we ever find out who created this place, and find him alive…"

Teyla nodded. He had no need to continue. "I won't stop you."

"Good."

"Now what?"

He shoved his back against the wall. "Now the fun begins."

At first she didn't understand what he meant, but it became all too clear as he started maneuvering his feet onto the other side of the shaft. "And this is supposed to work?" she asked him, feeling her weariness tenfold.

Ronon looked at her sympathetically as he inched his way up. "Come on. When this is over I'll let you beat up McKay for leaving us down here."

"Do you imply you would have stopped me otherwise?" she asked gruffly, positioning herself to join him. They were alive, she reminded herself, despite all odds. They were going to live through this and find their friends.

* * *

As always, thank you guys+gives out Carson cookies:-D Thanks for the great feedback.


	8. Dark One

**Dark Element****  
**Dark One

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. The team is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

When Teyla and Ronon made it to the surface of the earth, the reason for the sudden flood became all too apparent. A nearby stream had broken over the surface of a stone wall nearby and was threatening to do so again as the Lanteans staggered from the air shaft. At the top Ronon had fought like a champion to remove yet another rusted grate, and then a massive tree branch that had fallen over the hole that promised them freedom.

By the time they had made it out from the treacherous shaft, both Teyla and Ronon were already pushed well beyond exhaustion. But the fun was far from over. A storm unlike either of them had ever seen before in their lives colored the sky a sickly green and filled it with terrifying flashes of light. As they stood there in stunned disbelief at the fact that they were going to have to continue the fight for survival, a bolt of lightening crashed somewhere in the surrounding forest nearby.

Under the circumstances, standing out in the open was suicide.

There was a structure nearby, presumably where they would find the top of the lift they had run into on the inside of the prison. As another flood washed over the wall, Teyla and Ronon bolted for the small building. Unfortunately, the door would not open. It was sealed and no matter how hard Ronon pulled, wouldn't budge. They had to settle for what bare cover they could get, huddled together beneath the awning.

The rain pelted them mercilessly. Lightening pierced the air, destroying anything it struck, and thunder made the earth groan and shudder. It was there, in desperation, that Teyla had tried her radio in the hope that someone could and would answer, be it from their team or a rescue team that Atlantis--alerted to trouble, by now, by their crew's lack of communication--may have sent. As it was, the two stranded Lanteans felt as though they were alone in the universe when the radio remained uselessly dead.

That had been an uncounted number of hours ago. Now Ronon and Teyla walked side by side, soaked to the bone, tired and without any inclination to either speak or even contemplate their situation. What was it Sheppard had said to her once? Teyla searched her tired memory. Oh, yeah.

_No rest for the righteous._

The storm had died down, but not by much. The wind howled and the rain still fell, but at least the ferocity of the lightening had stopped. And so they trudged on in search of a nameless something that would point them in the right direction.

And something they found. They discovered this planet was not uninhabited sometime around dusk when a break in the forest revealed a city in their path. Both Teyla and Ronon looked at one another, but neither spoke. Neither wanted to awaken from the dream of hope before them.

In town no one was out; who would be in such a storm as this? There were lights in windows, though, to testify to the promise of life. And down a muddy, paved street someone caught their eye from behind a cracked open shutter. Ronon had tried to flag down his attention, but the onlooker closed shut the shutter without so much as another glance.

So they walked wearily on until, at last, they found a building resembling a public gathering place. Teyla entered first and closed her eyes in appreciation of the sudden warmth that washed over her. There was a fire in a hearth nearby, tables and chairs, and the scent of something cooking. "What are you two doing out in the rain?" a voice asked.

Teyla opened her eyes. "We got lost," she admitted, though held back from where until they learned more about this planet's people. She followed the direction of the voice and saw a man standing behind a bar, wiping it down. He watched them curiously as she asked, "May we sit?"

"Of course." He motioned to a table near the fire. "You two must be from another province. I haven't seen either of you in here before." He cleared the table of a tall, glass mug that had been left. "My name's Torin. You travelers sure picked the absolute worst time to get lost, let me tell you. This one's for the history books," he motioned towards the ceiling, implying the storm, "but I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that. Edana, get them something warm to eat."

"We have no way of paying," Teyla warned him.

Torin shook his head. "I don't think little things like money are going to matter all that much tomorrow."

Another voice, this one irritated and less cordial, snapped like a whip from across the room. "I'm telling you, this is nothing more than a storm. Quit scaring everyone with your doomsday messages."

"And _I'm_ telling _you_, the Dark One is awake again. I know it and I don't need your science talk to tell me otherwise." Torin retorted gruffly, taking plates from a woman that appeared bearing trays. He sighed. "I don't mean to scare you lot, of course. It's just you ought to be prepared. Did you see the lights in the temple?"

"Temple?" Ronon repeated, taking a draught from a mug that had been placed beside him. He gave Teyla an almost imperceptible nod, signifying the drink was safe.

Torin stared at him for a long moment. Teyla took that opportunity to insert herself into the conversation. "We do not know of the temple in our province."

"But you know of the Dark One, right?" the barkeep pressed curiously. He looked surprised when they shook their heads. "Well, I guess the old legends do die out. We're right close to it, so it's a bit hard to forget. 'Course, it's been eons. No one's really sure what the Temple was used for, really, and no one can get in—"

"—yet," the waspish voice called from across the room.

Torin rolled his eyes. "Hush, Cullen. Anyway, legend says it was devoted to some dark demon what sought to overthrow the Ancestors with his great power. Even used the soul of his lover to power his magic. Cold thought. Anyway, the Ancestors stopped him eventually, though no one's really sure how anymore. But it was said he could command the storms, move mountains and kill with a thought."

By this time the local that was presumably Cullen had made his way to the table. He was relatively young, with pale hair and soft, green eyes. His skin was soft like a scholar's, not a farmer's. The scholar flopped down beside Teyla with a mug in his hand. "And if you believe that, you're a fool," he said with a smart smile. "If there were such a being and he were truly awake, don't you think he would be doing something other than sitting around that temple all alone?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Teyla looked to Torin. "What makes you believe this Dark One is awake, anyway?"

"The storm," he said simply, motioning upwards. "What else? I've never in all my years heard of anything like what's going on out there. We're lucky the Ancestors protect our fair city, else we'd be in as much trouble as the rest of the land. And not only that, but don't let young Cullen fool you. He heard something up by the Temple's eastern complex, before the storm started. Tell 'em, Cullen."

They looked to the scholar, who had flushed and looked embarrassed. "I was probably hallucinating. After all, I _had_ taken some of your spiced potatoes up there with me for lunch."

Torin smacked him on the shoulder. "Ha ha, boy. Out with it."

Cullen paled at having to answer, looking less sure of himself. "All right, already. I heard a man scream."

Immediately Teyla and Ronon exchanged startled glances. If this temple was indeed the Ancient outpost it could mean very real trouble for their friends. McKay had sounded afraid. "Where is this temple, Cullen?" Teyla asked gently.

He shrugged. "The section I heard the scream come from is a day from here."

"A _day?_" Ronon repeated, shaking his head. One whole day could be too late, if that scream had come from either of their teammates.

Cullen nodded gravely. "Could be more if this storm doesn't let up. We could try for it tomorrow, but I'll warn you it isn't the nicest place in the world."

"Be that as it may, I believe we will take you up on your offer," Teyla replied, feeling worry begin to well up inside her.

* * *

When John woke up he had expected to be in the cell with McKay fussing over his prone form, or at very least cursing him for kicking the door shut. This was not the case. He opened his eyes, finding himself surrounded by warmth and pleasant, subdued illumination. He was in some sort of room. An actual room, not just some creepy, lonely cell. He was reclined in a comfortable chair, head back and legs draped along a footstool.

For a moment he could pretend he was at home on Atlantis. He had fallen asleep in his quarters and Dr. Weir was wondering where he was. Any minute now he would get up and go about his duties.

A voice shattered the illusion. "You know, the main problem with manipulating energy is that the effects do not last very long if they are forced upon a subject." Aerien was nearby, sounding tired and thoughtful.

Sheppard lifted his head off the back of the chair. He noted then that his hands and ankles were bound. "I'm sorry to hear that," he mocked, searching the room for weapons.

"I'm sure you are," the Ancient replied softly. He was standing at a table across from the Colonel, his hands dipping into a drawer. In his grasp was a large needle from which a thick, black thread dangled. A dark smile crossed the Ancient's lips as he approached.

John shrank back into his chair quickly, hissing, "Oh hell, don't you _dare_ touch me with that!"

Aerien laughed softly at his struggles. He shoved Sheppard onto his side—the uninjured side—and held the weakened Lantean down. When the needle stabbed into his flesh he cried out. An instinctive jerk away brought him more pain. The Ancient had no mercy on him. He drove on, marring flesh and quite probably John's psyche (he felt this was entirely probable, given the circumstances), as he stitched the wounds he had created. And every stitch caused the Colonel to moan in torment.

When it was done John slumped against the chair. He was becoming quite intimate with pain, so it was nothing new to him that he lay there in agony, barely able to remain conscious. His eyes wearily tracked Aerien's movements to a couch nearby. "Where are we, anyway?" he asked, deciding that any bit of information could prove useful at some point."

"This was Aila's home, near the gardens where she spent her free time. The place is filled with her spirit, I think. I find it agreeable to be here." Those pale eyes regarded Sheppard without expression as he then asked, "Are you hungry?"

"My friends are." John let out a breath. He was starved, but if he thought for any reason Aerien would feed Rodney and Carson, he would go without. It didn't seem to matter, anyway. Hunger, anguish, it was all the same.

Aerien nodded slowly. "Perhaps I will feed them. It depends largely on whether or not it would suit my purposes to do so."

"And does it 'suit your purposes to do so' with me?" John asked smartly as he tried to sit up. He couldn't. His body wouldn't cooperate. "Why?"

The questions were ignored. Aerien motioned to a plate of food on a table at John's side and watched the Colonel turn it down with a hard look. "Don't be stupid, Sheppard. You don't want to die any more than I want you to die. Refusing will neither grant your friends a meal nor make them feel any better if I let them starve. Eat and we'll talk."

In the end John decided to go along with this. He shakily took a piece of dark bread off the plate, praying it would grant him the strength to knock the living crap out of the man in front of him. "Talk, huh? Funny, you don't seem the talkative type." The bread began to quell the aching in his midsection the moment he swallowed. As small as that was, it did wonders for his outlook on the situation. He gazed at Aerien coolly. "All right, so talk. Got any beer?"

"You are quite interesting to study," Aerien said with a smile. John wasn't sure whether or not that was supposed to be some sort of twisted compliment. He said nothing to the Ancient in response, and so his enemy chose his own course of speech for the time being. "As I was saying, the problem is will. The will has much to do with the manipulation of energy. It is why ascension doesn't simply 'happen', and why telekinetic power is possible." He watched John take a drink of the water he had set out. "It is why simple faith can sometimes yield results. Flukes, of course, but manipulation of energy nonetheless."

"_Fascinating_," John remarked harshly as he finished off his bread. "So what are you going to do with us? What's the big goal here?"

The Ancient lifted a glass from his own table. "Beckett, I am afraid, will not survive. Not as you know him, anyway. His pure energy will grant me immense power. So bright, so untarnished." His gaze went abstract for a moment.

John felt his temper start to simmer. "Why Carson? Why not me?"

"You do not understand," the other man said almost sorrowfully, as if he pitied what little John knew. "Tell me this. Does your healer friend have a dark side to him?"

Sheppard thought about it and shook his head. "No."

"Is he cold? Could he kill without caring, if it were necessary? Does he seek vengeance against any and all enemies?"

"No." The questions made him uncomfortable. Where was this leading?"

Aerien nodded as his suspicions were confirmed. "He is innocent. Either that, or he has overcome his demons and made peace with himself and the universe as it is. Only those conditions in any given being can facilitate Ascension, you see. Your energy must be untarnished. In this state your energy is highly potent."

"You're gonna kill him because he's a good person?" John summarized incredulously. "You're insane, for one thing, and a disgusting son of a bitch for another." He found his appetite had waned to nothing, and thrust the plate away. "And is this what you're going to do to me eventually?"

"No. You, you will be around a lot longer than your unfortunate friend." There was that smile again, dark and unfeeling. John met the expression with a defiant glare, causing the Ancient amusement. "You, my friend have two purposes, the first of which is aiding me in learning how to _destroy_ energy. This is what I'm doing to your side. This is also the cause of the storm. My attempts are creating havoc with the energy surrounding us, I am afraid. Still, what is one world compared to the infinite knowledge gained from destroying a few meaningless units of your energy? If I can do that, I can do anything I wish."

Sheppard rolled his eyes, though inside he was afraid for himself, afraid for Carson. "And McKay? What, are you going to make him your little 'Dark Apprentice' or something? Rule the galaxy as father and son?"

His reply sent chills through Sheppard. "Why would I want McKay to aid me in my doings, when the gene of my people runs so strongly through _you?_"

It was the Colonel's turn to laugh. "Maybe because I wouldn't help you if you promised me the galaxy and then some? Maybe because I'm going to kill you if I ever see even the smallest chance? Take your pick of a million reasons, I guarantee you'll find plenty."

Aerien nodded. "We come to your second and perhaps more immediate purpose. It is difficult, I will grant you, to work with someone so resistant as you are. But it will not be your saving grace, I'm afraid. You may have noticed that whenever I interact with any of your energies, I tend to tire afterwards, yes?" John had noticed something like that. The Ancient went on. "It is difficult for one being to handle such raw power. We simply are not built for it. The effects can even be seen in your friend. Notice how emotional he seems? The process exhausts him as well as myself. However, I believe if I have a conduit through which to transfer the power…"

"Let me guess, you'll be free to absorb the energy while the negative effects pass on to me?" John finished for him. He felt sick when Aerien confirmed it. "Wonderful. Well, first you have to get me to cooperate and..."

"Wrong." The Ancient smiled. "I already have your cooperation."

"Oh yeah? How do you figure?"

Aerien's gaze turned menacing. "Because if you don't, I will destroy Atlantis. Search yourself. You know I have the power to do it."

"Bull," John hissed, staring Aerien down with a hard gaze. He felt his wrists go cold, however, as his body reacted to a sudden nervous flash that drove through him. "You wouldn't dare destroy the last city of your people."

The Ancient sat forward in his chair, hands curling down the arms of it as he grinned. "Try me." He rose from his seat and held the energy weapon up. "Get up."

John looked at the man as if he had just gone insane. "Get up?" he repeated in disbelief. "Did you happen to notice that I'm half dying, here?"

Aerien considered the options, then fiddled with the disruptor. "I'm setting this to kill. If you do not comply, I will go and I will murder McKay. If you still do not comply, I will kill you. Then I will do things to Beckett that would turn even your hard-trained stomach to ash. Make no mistake, Sheppard, I will learn the secrets of energy. I gave my soul for it, I gave the life of my lover for it. _Get. Up_."

Quite simply, John didn't know how far he was going to make it as he eased himself up. His body quaked at the strain of movement thrust upon it, but Aerien's threat was very real. Jaw set, Sheppard pulled himself to his feet and nearly fell over right then and there. His head spun and his ears fizzled with static from the blood rushing through him.

One single word kept him conscious, an order from the pit of Hell as far as he was concerned. "Move." Aerien pressed the nose of his weapon to John's head.

And so John moved, with no promise with each step that he could make another. He followed Aerien through the simple quarters and outside—the first bit of fresh air it felt like he'd had in ages. He savored it, but it was gone all too soon as they entered the dark complex of horrors.

At some point during the journey his legs finally gave out. By the time Aerien eased his rag doll form halfway onto a gurney in the laboratory, he could neither recall crumbling to the floor in the hall, nor Aerien's subsequent aid the rest of the way. His mind was in a haze.

"Colonel?" McKay was at the front of his cell, staring out with a worried expression. "God, you look like crap. What did he to do you?"

Sheppard tried to muster up some sort of reply, but found even that too taxing. The Ancient had no mercy for his ragged state. He pulled the Colonel's upper body off the bed and urged him towards the back of the room. Instinctively, John turned towards the cell with McKay in it.

Aerien laughed and shoved him towards Beckett's cell instead. There, at the door, he unlocked the cuffs around John's wrists and opened the door to his friend. "I won't do this," John growled, staring the Ancient in the face.

"You will." Aerien dragged him into the cell.

John looked over the small, oppressive room. Carson was sitting on his bunk, gazing at them both with confusion written on his expression. His eyes softened as he stood up. "John? Lad, are you a'right? What's he done ta ya?"

Sheppard swallowed hard, shaking his head. "_Aerien…_"

"John?"

The Ancient stepped up behind Sheppard. "Your hands. Place them on Beckett's temples."

It was then Carson understood something was going to happen to him. He took a step back, saying, "John, what's goin' on?"

"You're going to have to kill me, Aerien," John said to the Ancient, unable to answer Carson. "I can't do this. I _won't._" The doctor was watching Aerien with a look of renewed horror on his face.

"What does he want?" he asked softly.

John tightened his fists. "He wants to use me as a conduit so that stealing your energy doesn't affect him." The doctor paled at the suggestion and shook his head, looking from side to side for any means of escape. Sheppard continued in grave tones, "Don't worry. I won't let him hurt you. Aerien, take your energy from me. You said willpower was the problem. Well, I'm willing."

The cell door slammed shut. Both Sheppard and Beckett turned their gazes towards the Ancient as he ripped a tool and syringe filled with gold liquid off a nearby table and stormed in with McKay. "Hey, whoa, you're gonna attack me with a friggen _scalpel?"_ he said defensively as Aerien approached.

The Ancient laughed and lunged for him. Taken off guard, McKay quickly found himself shoved against the bars where his friends would get a prime view of whatever was going to happen. Aerien pressed him face forward with a cruel pleasure written in his intent eyes.

The scientist was nothing if not versed in the ways of self-preservation, however, and drew his arm forward, then sent it back into the Ancient's stomach. Aerien groaned and was knocked off balance for one shining moment, but remained on his feet despite McKay's efforts. He jerked the scientist back into the bars hard, causing him to hit his chin against the cold metal. John saw his blue eyes roll back for a second, but hopes that his friend would not have to endure pain were dashed when McKay regained his footing.

It was too late. Aerien had the needle at the scientist's throat and as it cut through his flesh McKay clawed at the bars, trying to gain enough control to fight back. In perfect health and power Aerien was too strong for him.

He jerked the needle out and it hit the floor with a plastic thump. The Ancient stepped back, allowing McKay his chance. Rodney whipped around to do just that. Unfortunately, whatever was in the needle was taking hold. He crumbled to his knees before Aerien, who kicked him the rest of the way down to the hard floor. Rodney sluggishly tried to crawl back, but his limbs would not cooperate.

Aerien knelt beside him so that his back was to the bars, blocking a great deal of the two other Lanteans' view. John saw him lift that scalpel though. "There are several points in a being's energy that are the strongest," he said softly, and then the blade disappeared out of view. Rodney groaned hard and writhed, but couldn't fight back as Aerien continued in those dulcet tones, "The side, hands, feet and head are all concentrated in the stuff of life. Do you think Sheppard will let us explore them all before he gives in?"

"B-bastard," Rodney growled and Aerien backhanded him before continuing the cutting he was doing.

"Is this what you fear, McKay?" the Ancient replied gently. "Helplessness? And this is merely physical." There was a liquid sound of flesh being ripped apart before the physicist let out a wail until any of them had ever heard him make.

"Rodney?" Carson called, moving to try and see his friend. "Stop! Don' do this ta him!"

John didn't know what to say, for once. He wasn't bad with strategy, if he said so himself, but he just didn't know what to do in this situation. Aerien was asking him to choose between McKay's misery and Beckett's life. How was he supposed to do that?

Carson chose for him. A hand touched down on Sheppard's shoulder and he looked up into the tired blue eyes of the doctor. "Whatever it is just do it, lad," Beckett said urgently, keeping his gaze locked onto Sheppard's. "It's not your fault."

"Carson…"

"I won't have Rodney's torment on my conscience, lad." The doctor swallowed and rubbed the sweat off his forehead. "Not when I can make this choice."

Aerien had stopped the torment somewhere in the middle of that conversation and listened to their words. "Shall I continue?" he asked as Sheppard deliberated.

The Colonel stood with fists clenched so hard his nails dug into his flesh. "I'll kill you for this," he promised as the Ancient glanced back at him.

The Ancient stood and gathered his tools of torture, leaving McKay on the floor. Rodney rolled to his side, facing away from his friends, curled in on himself. It didn't take long for the pain to grip him hard enough to cause him to be sick. When he was done he rolled back, eyes closed, form shivering as he lost consciousness.

Aerien rejoined Beckett and Sheppard with a no-nonsense glare. "Go on," he commanded, motioning to the doctor. Carson paled, but didn't flinch when John turned towards him.

With shaking hands John lifted his arms. Carson's eyes closed as Sheppard laid his palms against his temples. He could feel the doctor shuddering in anticipation beneath his touch. "Resist it," he hissed, conscious that Aerien was reentering the cell. "Resist it with everything in you, Carson, and he can't kill you."

The Ancient placed his hands on John's temples, standing behind him. He said nothing.

John wasn't sure he would have heard if he had. He could almost feel shadowy hands squirming through him, reaching out, and dragging pure light through him. A wave of ice broke upon the shores of his awareness, flowing through him in ways he couldn't describe. Not that he was much capable of thought, anyway. The world around them melted away, replaced by power that lifted his spirits, then left him shivering in the dark as the Ancient pulled it away from him.

He could feel Beckett's terror and suffering. He could feel pieces of what he could only assume was Carson's soul tear away and flow through him, leaving a great emptiness behind. The doctor resisted, held to his shattered being with everything he had, but that strength was crumbling like a great wall surrounding a fortress. John could see the terrible truth. Soon that strength would fade and Carson would not be able to fight anymore. The missing energy left him in despair.

And then Carson fell away from John's hands. The river of power lost its source and as the last of the light seeped through his being and into Aerien, he felt the great vastness of what had just happened. Aerien was trifling with the stuff of the universe, and the ease in which he could do it staggered John.

His last thoughts were of what might happen if this mad Ancient got his wish. The burden of exhaustion swept him away.

* * *

As always, thanks for the continued interest!! Yes, finally some McKay whump. ;-) 


	9. Life for Life

**Dark Element****  
**Life for Life

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. The team is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

The room was nearly black save for a single light shimmering outside the cells, ghostly and pale in color. Chill as death, the dark room held him in its somber embrace. It felt like a tomb to the weary mind of Carson Beckett. He sat with his back against the bars of his cell. They were hard, inhospitable and cold. Yet those small things didn't deter him. He was touching _something_, feeling _something_ other than the stark air. The bars served as a reminder that he was not alone, a double-edged sword that brought him both comfort and grief in the same blow. He did not want his friends to be here in this hell with him. 

But if he had been left here alone…

Carson shivered in the inky shadows that caressed him. Across the cell, still lying on the floor where he had fallen, was John. He had not awakened since the doctor pulled himself out of his own painful torpor. Those hazel eyes were closed to the horror surrounding them and Carson envied him for being able to escape the fear.

He could feel the fear pounding through him with every breath he took. Whatever Aerien was doing, it was causing the doctor's body serious complications—both emotional and physical. He didn't know much about physics or the manipulation of energy, and so couldn't hazard a guess as to what was really going on with him. But he could feel himself winding down. It was like a tug on his clothing, warning him in whispers that he could not survive this forever.

A noise drew him out of his somber thoughts. It was a soft whimper, nothing more. Carson looked up at the man across from him. John still was not moving. If he could just pull himself together for a few minutes…

Carson placed shaking hands on the cold floor and eased himself up so he could crawl across the room. He wasn't sure he would make it if he stood, to be honest. Even now he could feel the weakness threatening to stop him. But he had to move; he couldn't let John suffer alone. And so he forced himself forward until he could reach the prone body lying in the glow of light bleeding through the window.

He took the Colonel's wrist in his hands and felt for a pulse with numbing fingers. He could feel it, but just barely. Was that because it was weak or because he was too weak to feel it? Carson sighed in frustration, putting his hand on John's forehead. It was cool. "Aye, lad, what's he done ta ya?" he whispered.

This was the part in all the good movies where his friend was supposed to take a sudden breath and answer him with a quip. John remained deathly silent and unmoving. Carson watched those pale features for any sign of consciousness, and as the moments ticked on he realized the Colonel was not going to make a fast recovery in time to banish all his worries. Life didn't work out that way.

There was nothing he could do without his tools. Nothing except put a reassuring hand on his friend's arm. "I know it ain't much, son, but I'm here."

"How touching." The sardonic voice jarred Carson. He had not known he was being observed. Throwing a look at the window, he saw Aerien watching with a derisive expression. Those pale eyes shimmered eerily in the near black atmosphere of the room. "You would push yourself within an inch of death to save him, wouldn't you?"

"O'course I would," Beckett heard himself hiss, and was surprised he had the strength to sound so angry. He glared at the Ancient as he hovered there by the window. Aerien opened the cell door. Carson jerked back in fear, but remained at his friend's side as their captor approached. "Don't," he said in low tones. "Don't touch him. Leave him be."

The Ancient crouched on the opposite side of Sheppard, still watching, unperturbed by the doctor's words. "This is why I chose you." He took on a thoughtful look, pulling Sheppard's shirt back to reveal his livid wounds. Carson saw the stitches and inhaled a sharp breath. Blood leaked from the cuts gently. Aerien used the torn edge of the black shirt to wipe it away as he continued to talk. "Aila was like you. She thought she could heal the universe."

Carson set his jaw, looking anywhere but into the Ancient's eyes. "I know I can't do _that_," he retorted in bitter, biting tones. It was all still there, the expanse of darkness he had been shown. Carson Beckett was a born doctor. From a young age it had been in him to heal, whether with kind words, putting a band-aid on his mother's finger, or pulling a thorn out of a stray puppy's paw. When McKay bragged too much about his intelligence, Carson would return with the idea that it was _he_ that had been destined bring hope to those that had none, through his art of healing. The other man would roll his eyes and the doctor would laugh.

Aerien had shown him the enormous suffering in the universe. Everything Carson would never be able to heal and how futile it was to try. And everything he had ever done to bring more suffering into the lives of others. The retrovirus. Perna. His failure with Aiden. Every time his bravery had failed him and someone had gotten hurt. Everything that haunted his dreams at night.

"So, what happened ta Aila?" he asked, surprised that he actually cared. He couldn't imagine this man loving anyone or anything but himself, and that went ten times over the idea that someone could have cared for Aerien in return.

There must have been something there. He could see sorrow flicker and die in those pale eyes. "She didn't survive. Since then I've learned how to prolong life during these little experiments."

The doctor's stomach tightened at the implications. He stared at the other man as if seeing him for the first time. "Ya did this ta her? Ya made her suffer like this, and yet ya claim ta have some sorta affection for her?" A wave of nausea passed through him. His face grew hot despite the cold in the room.

"I loved her," Aerien stated simply, as if there was no room for argument. A wan smile crossed his lips. "She didn't think my ambitions were very wise. She just couldn't understand what I was trying to do."

"Yer a madman," Carson breathed, closing his eyes as if to blot out the terrible things he was being exposed to. When he opened them again his gaze fell on John's face. "Fine. So ya want ta hurt me. Why him? Why did ya make him do what ya did?"

The Ancient cocked his head. "I needed a conduit. Don't worry, Beckett. As much as I loathe using McKay with his false gene, I see I cannot use Sheppard again any time soon. Unfortunately, I believe you may be dead by the time he has recovered enough, and so he is safe from my oh-so-terrible plans to steal your energy." His voice dripped with sarcasm as he straightened and moved to stand near John's head. To the doctor's horror he knelt so he could take the Colonel by the shoulders.

Putting his hand on his friend to keep him steady, Beckett hissed, "What d'ya plan on doin' ta him, then, if he's supposedly safe?"

"I didn't say he was _safe_," Aerien laughed darkly. He stood, bringing Sheppard up with him to drag back out of the cell. "I said he was safe from my plans to steal your energy. That doesn't mean I am going to let a good resource go to waste."

Carson stood with him, trying to take his friend back from the grip of darkness. The Ancient watched his actions curiously, as if observing a child, then took swift action. A fist slammed into the doctor's jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground in his weak state. Dizzy, sick, and exhausted, Carson listened a moment as John was removed from the cell.

When Aerien returned he did not appear angry. The doctor sat up just as he reentered the cell, and backed up against the bars again as Aerien stalked towards his prey. He crouched down, setting a case on the floor and opening it. "You're in pain," he said gently, reaching for Beckett.

"Don't," Carson gasped as those cold hands fell on him. He tried in vain to back away, only to find those cold, solid bars holding him forward so the Ancient could torment him. Aerien pressed his cheek to one side, exposing his throat as he removed a syringe from his case. He shoved at the iron hold even as the edge of the needle sliced through his skin, into the carotid artery. There were more nerves around the arteries than veins, and the forceful pressure made him cry out. The sound filled the small cell, reflecting back at him mockingly.

When it was done Aerien pressed his finger to the spot, closed his eyes and remained still for a long time. Carson fumbled, searching for the needle as the Ancient concentrated on his task. Aerien took no notice, which fed the doctor hope that he could do something to stop this psychopath from hurting his friends. But just as his fingertips brushed against what he thought was the round girth of the syringe a hand whipped out and struck his away.

Aerien opened his eyes with a smile. "You would do anything to save them, wouldn't you?" he asked, removing his finger from Carson's throat.

The doctor raced his hand up to stay the inevitable bleeding only to find there was none. "What did ya do ta me?"

"Answer my question and I might answer yours."

Beckett knit his brow, glaring at the other man as he growled, "Ya know damn well I would do anythin' ta save 'em! Does it give ya some sorta sick pleasure ta hear it?" He groaned as Aerien gripped his jacket and shoved him hard against the bars, knocking his head back in a vengeful reply.

"Understand this, Beckett," Aerien said, his demeanor now deadly, "Sheppard's hours are numbered. _McKay's_ hours are numbered. I have a universe of subjects to study. _None_ of you are irreplaceable. You say you would do anything to save them, yes? Tell me, do you have the stomach to truly go through with your word? Would you give your soul to save them as I have given mine to save countless millions?" He shoved Carson again. "No, you wouldn't. You wouldn't willfully harm a single being to save a galaxy. You simply could never do what it truly takes to save all those you love because you're unwilling to travel the hard, painful road it takes to get to the end of that goal. Would you kill McKay if it would save Sheppard?"

"Yer talkin' crazy," Carson scoffed, grabbing at Aerien's wrists to keep him from pushing him back again.

The Ancient laughed at him. "Oh, if only it were that easy. This is why I chose you, Beckett. Your innocence and your fear of the darkness. But I'm going to leave you with this thought. You could save them both by helping me."

"Liar."

Aerien let go of his lapels, standing over his captive, that same quiet dignity that all Ancients possessed overriding the anger. "You're dying slowly, Beckett. That is what I have done to you. Ask yourself now if you have the time to question the truth of what I have offered. Their lives for your life. The pain could end for all three of you. Do you have the strength to do what it takes to save them, or is your life truly as meaningless as you fear? The drug I have given will make your passage from this world into energy easier. Unfortunately, it also works as a neurotoxin, so you see you no longer have time to deliberate. You're going to die. But will it have meaning?"

Aerien took his case and stalked out of the cell, then out of the lab. He doused the single lamp that had been glowing, leaving his captives in complete darkness save the dim shine of the terminal. And then Carson was alone again.

The Ancient's words echoed through him. Their lives for your life. He could do that. He could give his life for theirs. At least it would be something against the tide of suffering the universe held in it. But what would helping Aerien mean in the long run? He felt so confused, and his head throbbed even worse than before. It was so cold in here.

Letting out a sigh, Carson wrapped his arms around himself, trying desperately to keep warm and calm. He could feel every inch of his body shaking and his heart pounding in his chest. And his head… He was so dizzy that each move he made brought with it the threat of emptying his already considerably hollow stomach. He could taste the sickly sweetness of bile in the back of his throat.

A noise from behind drew his attention. The doctor took a shuddering breath and wiped the sweat from his face. A curse broke the quiet, letting Carson know that McKay was awake and blundering through the dark. He listened as his friend crouched down nearby. McKay whispered, "Carson? Colonel?" His voice was harsh and tired.

"I'm here," Carson replied, turning instinctively towards him. "I'm here, lad"

"Carson? I can't see a damn thing. Sheppard in there with you?"

"He's out there." Carson glanced in the direction of the wan glow bleeding through the window.

There was another curse, then a question the doctor had wanted to avoid. "Are you all right?"

"F-fine." It was a lie, but it came so naturally to the tip of his tongue. There was nothing McKay could do but worry, anyway. He tried to stifle another shudder as he asked, "What about you? What did that monster do to ya?"

There was a telltale quiet that made the doctor sigh. Rodney wasn't one to let out his emotions without a good fight to keep them locked away. That he didn't say something sarcastic right off the bat didn't bode well. "He ah, cut my arm up with that friggen scalpel and I don't really want to get into that if it's all the same to you. I mean, damn, I knew he was messed up, but well, you know." He was rattled.

Carson could well understand why. He turned to face the other man, saying softly, "Let me see." The dim illumination masked his friend from much of his view, but if he tried he could make out the barest hint of features. He could see the pain in those eyes as McKay eased his arm through the bars for examination.

Carson couldn't see any details of the wound, but the difference between his friend's pale skin and the red river covering torn pieces of flesh was apparent right away. It was everywhere. "What'd he _do _ta ya? All this with a scalpel?"

The scientist made a bitter noise. "And you know, his hands and nails. God, I'm gonna get gangrene and die in here. And um, I think he put something in my arm."

The implications of that floored Carson. "Lad," he breathed, shaking his head. "Ya've got ta wrap it. Keep it from bleedin'."

"Yeah, but that's going to hurt." McKay gulped. "And what's this 'me' stuff. You're the doctor."

The physician lifted his bloodied fingers to show his friend. "It's got ta be done. I'll help ya. Tear off some o'your shirt, there."

It was slow business. McKay couldn't tear the material very easily, and when he finally did, each loop around his sore arm made him jerk away. About halfway through Carson felt the burden of his exhaustion hit full on. He held to Rodney's wrist a moment, shirt in hand, trying to muster his strength again.

Rodney hissed in a breath when the doctor prodded his wounds accidentally. "Geez! What the…Carson?"

He wanted to say something, to apologize, but a wave pain running through his head kept him quiet. His grip on McKay's arm tightened without his meaning to. The doctor barely even registered when Rodney took him by the shoulder. "Carson, you're shaking like a jackhammer. What's wrong?" Alarm laced that usually sarcastic voice.

"Don'…don' worry about it," the doctor replied through a trembling voice. He turned away as his eyes watered, not wanting to show his friend his weakness. Why did this have to be so hard?

There were now two hands on him, prodding his shoulders, gauging how bad the tremors were. "Don't worry about it?" Rodney's tone was unbelieving. "You're scaring the hell out of me. Carson, I've been your friend since we started this expedition. You owe me honesty. Now tell me what's going on."

"I…I don' f-feel myself, lad," he stumbled through a reply, curling into himself. The pain lancing through his spine won a hard groan from him. "Ugh. It hurts so bad."

His muscles ached like nothing he had ever felt before, locked in tension he couldn't break. Yet he couldn't stop shifting, couldn't stop trembling. Panic rose up in him as wave after agonizing wave of pain seared through his head, each more brutal than the last. He wasn't going to make it through this. It was beyond his ability to endure. "R-Rodney?" He could still feel his friend's hands on his shoulders, the only bit of warmth in this room of ice. It gave him some small comfort as he gathered his thoughts. "T-tell my mother…"

"_No!_" Rodney hissed before he could finish his sentence. The harshness of the sound made the doctor wince. "Don't you say it, Carson, don't you dare say it! You just told me not to worry about it. Well, you're making me worry about it, so stop!"

"Rodney, he _poisoned_ me." He didn't mean to just say it, but the knowledge was cutting him, and he couldn't just pass on here in front of his friend's face without telling him certain things. He didn't know how long he had, no matter what Aerien had said about it being slow.

McKay was silent for what seemed forever, then mumbled, "What?"

Carson took a labored breath. "He s-said he poisoned m-me."

"Well, he's lying." It sounded so simple to McKay. Of course the Ancient was lying. Of course he wasn't going to watch the doctor die right here in front of him. Beckett suppressed a moan, wishing it were the truth.

"Even were he lyin'," he said softly, then paused to catch his breath before going on, "he s-said I could save ya both b-by lettin' 'im t-take me…"

He could feel the tremors of Rodney shaking his head firmly. "No. He's using your compassion against you. Don't let him lie to you like that. You don't know what he'll do if he consumes your power. Hell, I don't know and I'm supposed to be the expert on energy here. He's crazy and logically cannot be trusted, do you hear me? Don't give in to that. And you're _not_ dying."

"Lad, I…canna s-stop…sh-shaking. The p-pain." Carson shuddered against the bars, unable to continue. "Y-you've been a good… R-Rodney?"

And then suddenly he was warm. An arm wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him closer. "We're gonna get through this. You're not gonna die," McKay told him.

The doctor let out a cry and tried to double over, but Rodney held him that much harder to keep him grounded. Carson's hand found the scientist's uninjured arm and squeezed as he continued speaking in soft tones, "Just stay calm. You know I'm always right, right?"

"A-aye." Carson knit his brow, feeling hot tears slide down his cheeks unwillingly. He didn't care; couldn't care. The pain was too great, the emptiness welling inside him too vast. He felt as if he could slip away at any moment.

McKay rested his cheek against his friend. "Then you trust me when I say this is gonna pass. He needs you, Carson, so he won't let you just die. We'll get through it minute by godforsaken minute if we have to. You just don't give up, you understand?"

Carson nodded weakly, still holding onto McKay's arm. He didn't know if Rodney understood his agreement, didn't know if he could keep the promise he had just made by making such a simple gesture. It felt as if he were being torn from the inside out, and blessed peace, _any_ peace seemed tempting no matter what bargain he had to make to get it. Rodney was trying to talk to him, trying to tell him about something or other from his college days, but Beckett couldn't focus enough to pay attention. Aerien's words echoed through his thoughts too loudly.

_Their lives for your life._ Choose death. At the moment he wasn't so sure it was a choice as much as inevitability, however. Being a doctor gave many great rewards. It also gave one the knowledge of just how much the human body could take before it simply gave up.

* * *

Thanks, again, for the wonderful reviews! I'm glad you guys like+hands out Rodney shaped cookies this time+. 


	10. Time's Up

**Dark Element****  
**Time's Up

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. The team is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

"Have you run across any sign of them?"

The voice on the other end of the radio sounded pensive. A day had passed since the scheduled check-in was supposed to have taken place. Worried about her missing crew, Dr. Weir sent in a team to rescue the wayward band of Lanteans. It hadn't been the first time Lorne had been sent, and he doubted it would be the last. Going into this he hadn't known what to expect, but his assumption that circumstances couldn't be very dire was being tested just now. He tapped his earpiece to respond to her. "Our scanners show lifesigns within the complex, but our radios won't connect to anything. We would explore, but well, we're kind of stuck at the moment."

There was a pause, then, "Stuck? Can you explain that to me, Major?"

He sighed, sweeping his eyes along the empty room. His frustration mounted as he searched it. "The Stargate appears to open up in some sort of silvery antechamber. There are pillars and well, nothing else, really. Central to the room is some sort of bulkhead construct arranged in a square formation." Lorne shrugged even though Weir couldn't see him. "We don't know what's inside it, but it's big."

"Major!" a voice called from the other side of the bulkheads. Lorne wandered around to where one of his team stood, pointing to an opening in the wall. "Sir, I found this panel in the wall. It appears to be a small terminal, sir."

The Major examined in closely, then tapped his earpiece again. "Dr. Weir, we have what looks to be some sort of control panel here. I request you send Dr. Zelenka to have a look at it."

"Is it safe?" she asked him.

Lorne inhaled a deep breath. "So far it couldn't be safer. No sign of hostiles, no sign of a way out of this place, or anything except for the Stargate. We're gonna need technical help if we're to find the Colonel."

"All right," Weir replied, sounding reluctant to trust the fates of even more of her crew to this planet. Yet one had to do what one had to do. "Keep me informed, Major. Watch your backs. Weir out."

Brow knit, Lorne examined the panel for himself until he heard the Stargate's liquid motion. The blue shining of the event horizon admitting another Lantean made the walls shimmer, then stilled with footsteps heading towards his position. He peered around the bulkhead and saw the Czech scientist head towards him with a grave expression. "Welcome to the fun," he greeted. "And by fun I mean long moments of gazing around you, wondering what in the hell to do with this empty room."

Zelenka smirked as he bent over to look at the panel. "Thank you, Major. At least I will be able to tease Rodney about not being able to figure his way out of this one himself." He glanced up briefly. "Strange. I never tire of that."

"I could imagine."

The scientist prodded the terminal, then crouched. Lorne supposed he was getting comfortable because they were going to be here for a while. He turned towards the Lieutenant that had called him, who was studying an Ancient scanner in his hand. "You say this place is broken up into five different buildings?"

The officer nodded, pointing. "There are four lifesigns here. That could account for 80 of our crew. Where the remaining person is, I couldn't guess. There appears to be several settlements in the area, though."

"Is there any way to tell how thick these walls are?" Lorne peered around. "We may have to resort to digging our way out if we can't find the way out."

"Unfortunately, this chamber is underneath the ground. I would assume behind that bulkhead is some sort of turbolift, or stairs, but without opening it..." He gave Lorne a very serious look. "As far as digging, sir, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but my scanner shows one monster storm going on in this part of the world. And I mean _bad_, Major. I'm not sure it would be a good idea to venture out into it."

A reply was forestalled by Zelenka's sudden eruption of his native tongue. He waved his arms. "This is ridiculous. I'm doing everything I know to do, yet I get nothing!" He went back to attacking the panel.

His frustration mounting, Lorne gazed at the scanner, at the four dots on the screen that represented four lives. The Czech scientist was working furiously with the panel, but the bulkheads remained steadfastly in the way. This was not going to be a good day. He could feel it in his bones. "Well, storm or no storm, we're going to find a way out of this room and search for our people. Analyze the composition of those walls and let's start thinking about getting some C4 down here. Zelenka?"

The scientist turned towards him after a moment. "Yes, Major?"

"Please, try your best to make explosives entirely unnecessary, would you? I really just want to get through this bulkhead and into the complex." Lorne gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I'll give you an hour."

"I shall do my best." Zelenka gave him a dark little grin. "Believe me, if for no other reason than to rub Rodney's nose in it."

The Major laughed. "I like your thinking." He turned towards the rest of the rescue team. "All right, people. We've got ourselves a situation here. I want solutions, so any idea, no matter how remote it seems, please bring it to either my attention or that of Dr. Zelenka." He activated his radio again. "Lorne to Weir."

"Weir here," he voice responded hopefully over the signal. "Tell me you have good news, Major."

He shook his head with a sigh, hating to have to disappoint her. "No such luck, Dr. Weir. Dr. Zelenka is working on our little panel problem, but I'm starting to wonder if a little brute force might be necessary towards getting us out of this room."

"Brute force? Can you use brute force and keep the Stargate safe?"

Lorne looked around him. "There are some distant areas in this room. I think if we controlled our efforts we could accomplish our goals, however I'm giving Zelenka the benefit of an hour to figure this out before we start thinking of other measures. However, Lieutenant Darren informs me there's some sort of storm going on topside. Of the distinctly violent type, apparently. Given that we don't fully understand what we're walking into at this point, I recommend you send a few medics through the Stargate to remain on standby just in case."

"All right, Major. I'll send the appropriate equipment through momentarily." She paused for a second, then said, "Be careful. Weir out."

Rubbing his forehead, Lorne turned towards Zelenka and watched in quiet expectation. He supposed 'easy' was a lot to ask for, but there was always a first time for everything.

* * *

A scream startled Rodney out of his somewhat fuzzy sleep. He drew his heavy eyelids open halfway, murmured, "Not now, Cynthia," then curled against the cold, stone wall. A shiver caused the physicist to reach for the blankets. At that time a great problem chose that moment to make itself known. There were no blankets. He fumbled around and came up with nothing. And why was he in pain?

Another scream forced him out of his semi-conscious state. Not that that was saying much. McKay opened his eyes and sat up quickly, only to be forced back down by a massive wave of dizziness. _Oh_, he thought, looking at the depressingly dingy white ceiling above him. He wasn't at home and Cynthia—an old girlfriend who had been known to scream in bed with him once in a while (though it wasn't nearly as glamorous as it sounded, seeing as she suffered from night terrors)—wasn't trying to prod him out of his repose.

McKay sat up again, this time taking things slowly. The lights were back on, but oh how he wished they weren't. And where was Carson? He grabbed the bars nearby and looked into the cell for his friend. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach when he recalled last night. The doctor couldn't be… McKay shook his head, unwilling to even think it. Carson was alive. A moan filtering through the air testified to that much, making the physicist heave a sigh of relief.

Aerien was out and about, it seemed. Upon rising Rodney could see the Ancient standing with his back towards the cell. The physicist thought with great fondness of the idea of tossing a dagger Bond-style into that back. Their host was up to no good, that much was certain, and McKay was going to find out just what was going on. He took a step, had to wait out another blood loss related dizzy spell, and then sort of lurched his way towards the window. At least he thought he was lurching, but he couldn't be totally sure on the technical aspect of that.

_What the hell am I thinking?_ he growled mentally at himself, stopping when he realized his thoughts had wandered. He shook his head and focused on his footsteps.

Peering out the small window showed him a view that filled him with panic again. Carson was convulsing on a nearby table. Sheppard was stretched out near him, fully conscious and cursing at the Ancient that was hovering above. All thoughts of sarcasm flew out of McKay's brain. "What the hell is going on?" he hissed, throwing a hand towards Carson. "What's wrong with him?"

"Shut up, McKay," Aerien responded coldly. He went on with scanning Sheppard.

"He's letting Carson die!" the Colonel growled, trying fruitlessly to pull at the bonds around his wrists. "Damn you, Aerien, _what do you want?_"

The Ancient did not reply. Ignoring the writhing doctor and his two flustered friends, he stood by with a dark expression on his face. Meanwhile Carson was shaking so hard Rodney worried he would fall off the gurney he was on.

He wanted to break out of his prison, wanted to go to the aid of his friend, wanted to murder Aerien without so much as a 'by your leave', but could do nothing as he watched Carson thrash. Rodney rubbed the stubble on his chin, his eyes wide and locked onto Carson's deathly pale face. _God, this is really it,_ he caught straying through his thoughts, after which he quickly admonished himself. No. He wasn't going to give up on his friend. "_Do_ something!" he yelled at the Ancient. "Carson, can you hear me?"

There was no response, save for the soft moans he made as the pain wracked his body.

"If he dies, so help me, Aerien," Sheppard whispered in dark tones. McKay saw the Colonel's fists clench and unclench. His friend did not have the strength to continue his threat, however. Sheppard's chest heaved with labored breathing.

It wouldn't have mattered if he had completed the death sentence on the Ancient or not. Aerien paid him no mind, focusing on other matters as he lifted a needle into the light. He examined the quantity of the dark liquid within, then turned back towards Beckett with a grim expression. "What are you going to do to him?" Rodney growled, reaching through the bars to no avail. He kicked the wall separating him from the infuriating Ancient. Was he going to finish the doctor off finally? The scientist shook his head at the surreal situation he was in. Why was this happening to them? They were the heroes, the good-guys in white. They weren't supposed to die.

The doctor's hands tightened around the sheet beneath him. Sweat poured down his skin. As Aerien pressed the needle into his arm, Carson let out a groan. The sound was excruciating to listen to. Rodney closed his eyes, trying to blot out the sounds coming from his friend as he lay beneath the Ancient's ministrations.

The Ancient tossed the needle away when it was emptied into Carson's veins, then held him by the shoulders to keep him still. Carson jerked against the hands keeping him pinned. Unable to keep his eyes off the drama going on, Rodney looked again and could see his friend's lashes fluttering open and shut. He had no way of knowing whether or not Carson was completely conscious of what was happening to him. He prayed not. He prayed if he had to go, it would be peacefully.

Carson threw his head back and let out another agonized cry like that which had awakened McKay. Sheppard had his eyes shut, but the tension in his body revealed he was still awake, still listening to everything. "Another moment," the Ancient muttered, still holding the doctor to the gurney. Rodney could do nothing but watch wordlessly.

After an eternity of waiting he began to notice something, though. Carson's shaking was dying down. The physicist covered his mouth, hoping beyond hope this wasn't a bad sign.

"That's it," Aerien said gently, pressing his hand to Beckett's forehead when the doctor went moderately still. He stared at his captive with an emotionless expression. "That's better, isn't it?"

"It hurts. I c-can't…" Carson whispered as if begging for an end to it. McKay felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Leaning his hand against the wall for support, he gazed out of the cell window. Sheppard had opened his eyes to look as well.

The Ancient continued speaking in sinuous, soft tones. "I can do nothing for the pain. Dr. Beckett, time is running out for you. I may have saved you from death now, but I won't continue to let you live if you refuse to serve."

"What the hell are you doing to him?" Sheppard asked, trying to hold in his anger for the time being. McKay recognized that expression, those tight lips and that pensive brow. "What did you just give him?"

Aerien looked up tiredly. "Dr. Beckett's body is giving up, I am afraid. I gave him the antidote to the drug that affected him so terribly. I had hoped by now to use him. Unfortunately, the body cannot handle the stress of energy modification as well as I would like. I have tried to make my subjects strong enough to withstand longer experiment periods, but," his expression went dim, "it never seems to work."

McKay felt his pulse rate increase an unpleasant notch. "Well, maybe that's because you don't have the faintest idea of what the hell you're doing!" he snapped at the Ancient viciously. "Seriously! Believe me when I say you are _never_ going to be a god! Get over it!"

"Be quiet," Aerien groaned, rubbing his forehead. He watched Carson shiver with the emotional attachment of a stone. "Won't you surrender yourself, Beckett? With the knowledge I could gain from you, we could save so many lives. Don't you understand?"

"Ya want ta kill me," Carson responded weakly. "I'm no fool."

The Ancient laughed lightly. "What is death compared to understanding the building blocks of life?" He shook his head. "You _will_ die sooner or later, if not by service than by vengeance. But if you give yourself to me, if you commit yourself to this, I can _stop death _for millions! Don't you see that? If I understand the manipulation of energy I could even rebuild you!"

"Don't listen to him," Sheppard interjected, his jaw set and his hands curled tightly. His patience had run dry. Contempt colored the glare he had fixed on the Antient. "He's insane, Carson. You think he cares about you enough to rebuild you? Bull. Don't give him what he wants."

Carson closed his eyes. "I'm so tired."

Aerien gave Carson's shoulder a friendly rub that made Rodney what to tear his arm off. "You can rest, Carson. But I want you to think about it. Do you honestly think if I could stop death I would keep this knowledge to myself? I want to remake Aila. I _need_ to. And if I can do that, I will bring you back to repay your selfless sacrifice. I could stop this deadly disease we call time right in its tracks! Would that not give your life the meaning you so desire?"

"Aye," the doctor breathed distantly, as if he were half asleep.

"You're confusing him," Rodney realized aloud, staring at Aerien. "You're trying to get him to give in. You're a damn liar. What did you put in that drug?"

"All I said was true, McKay," the Ancient retorted sharply to the contrary. "From he and Sheppard I am trying to learn the secrets of creating energy. I _would_ bring him back to you."

McKay shook his head, shock and fear making the tips of his fingers grow cold. "_Create_ energy? No, no, no. The Law of Conservation of Matter, which any Ancient kindergartener probably knew back in the days of yore, states that matter _cannot_ be created or destroyed, only modified. You're not going to be _creating_ anything, pal."

Aerien watched him a moment, then his lips twitched. "You really like to hear yourself talk, don't you?"

"Funny, I could say the same about you," McKay spat back at him. "So what about Sheppard, then? Is he dying too, or what? I'd like to know what to expect and while I'm at it, when are you going to kill me?"

Aerien smiled at the Colonel. "He is not dying, McKay, though it will be some time before you are useful to me again, my friend. The transfer of energy wore you completely out." He stopped to take Carson's pulse a moment, then turned back to Rodney with a speculative look. "You, however, are in prime condition."

"Y-yeah, if you call being starved until your sugar goes out of whack um…prime condition," Rodney stammered nervously. He didn't like the look in Aerien's eyes. As the Ancient approached his window, the scientist backed off. "I could drop dead any minute you know. Don't look at me like that."

The Ancient cocked his head. "Why?"

McKay glowered. "Because your damn ugly face is making me queasy." He jerked back in alarm when Aerien put his hand on the windowsill.

Aerien laughed, however. "I need a new conduit, unless you would prefer I use Sheppard again. However, that will ensure he _will_ die, sooner rather than later." He threw a glance over his shoulder. "I'll make you a deal, sugar boy. Serve as my conduit this final time and Sheppard will not only live, but I will feed you both. Do not serve and I will be forced to use the Colonel again, and then turn my attention on energy-matter creation and destruction upon _you_."

As Aerien turned away, McKay fought the urge to reach through the bars and grab hold of the Ancient to throttle him. He went to Carson's bed and whispered a few things the scientist just couldn't make out no matter how hard he tried, then departed with another glance in his direction.

The door shut with a heavy clang. Sheppard looked over at the doctor between he and McKay gravely. "Doc? How ya feeling?"

"I wasn't cut out for this, John," he whispered weakly. Rodney sighed at the response and leaned back against the bars, too tired to look out. "I been feelin' it for the longest time. S'why he's doin' this ta me. 'Cause he knows I'll break."

"Stop it, Carson," Rodney heard the Colonel respond firmly. The physicist glared at the wall, hoping whatever inspirational speech his friend was going to give would help him too. "Don't you let him convince you of that, Doc. That's an order." _So much for the universal pep talk,_ Rodney thought cynically.

"I'm no' military," the doctor reminded Sheppard gently, his voice trailing off.

"The order still stands and don't you think I won't enforce it." Rodney, who had assumed he was forgotten and had started for his bunk, stopped short when Sheppard called, "Hey, McKay!"

He turned back. "What?"

The Colonel gave him a grave expression. "I think _now_ would be an awfully good time to get that lock figured out, don't you? Wanna try again?"

Rodney rolled his eyes, but obediently shoved his arm out of the window, fingers seeking the lock. "I can try, but I'm telling you this computer is as crazy as he is. I wouldn't be surprised if he configured it to unlock to the command to _lock_ it. Hey, wait a minute…" He touched the keypad with a brand-spanking-new theory.

A few moments later the latch came undone and the door jarred open. "My god, he is _so stupid!_" McKay said gleefully. "I could almost love him for that."

"Don't tell me you commanded that thing to lock," Sheppard said with an incredulous expression.

McKay waved his hand, moving to Carson's side. "Don't be silly, Colonel. No. See, I've noticed sometimes the Ancients would use specific mathematical equations as pass codes to different things. There have been quite a few of them that repeated, suggesting a certain standard used for different purposes. I had cycled through a few of those the first try I made to no avail. But then that little remark I just made… I'm so smart I astound myself sometimes."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Get to the point before my strength comes back or you'll be sorry, I promise."

"Anyway, I just tried some of those sequences _backwards_, and voila! Even as his mind, so are his passwords. Can you believe that?"

"Yeah, I'm shocked." Sheppard's voice was significantly dryer than usual.

Rodney didn't care. His adrenaline was pumping now, despite how awful he felt otherwise. They were going to get out of here. "Carson, how are you?" he asked gently, looking down into his friend's crystal eyes.

"Proud o'ya," Carson breathed, reaching up with a pale smile. He touched Rodney's hand. "Get John an' go."

The physicist shook his head. "Don't be stupid. We're all getting out of here."

"Don't waste yer time. I'm dyin'." He took a shuddering breath.

"Then you'll die on Atlantis," McKay retorted with a note of finality. "Probably when I give you more of my chicken. After you recover, don't worry. I swear, Carson. You're gonna suck the melodrama right to the last drop, aren't you?"

Carson glared up as Rodney clumsily tried to ease him into a sitting position. "And yer gonna get my fist in yer jaw if ya don't shut it, son." He nearly fell forward into his friend. "S'no good. I canna go on."

McKay eased him back onto the gurney. "Okay, walking is out. So I'll roll you out on this gurney. Both of you. Colonel?"

Taking a breath, Sheppard grinned. "I could see it now. When we pass Aerien's quarters we could wave as he looks up from his memoirs because the sound of the squeaky wheels drew his attention."

"Funny. It's better than nothing," Rodney defended himself.

The Colonel nodded in concession, then looked down at his wrists. "Get me out of this thing. I've got another idea."

The cuffs were a different story than unlocking the cell door had been. With Carson he had lucked out; Aerien had left the doctor unbound, probably seeing him as too weak to escape. With Sheppard McKay could only fall back on his lock-picking skills, which were significantly lessened with one arm out of commission. He frantically searched the drawers for anything even remotely useable and settled on a strange little pick that reminded him uncomfortably of the dentist.

A few clicks later Sheppard was free. He was not exactly brimming with energy, but he did manage to get to his feet before falling against the gurney.

"Crap," McKay hissed, scratching his head. "Well, get on the gurney."

Sheppard shook his head. "Find me a weapon."

"A _what?_"

"You heard me."

"Great," Rodney muttered, riffling through the drawers. He found one locked and used the same backwards command password to open it. What he saw made him whistle. "This is a good day." He reached in and pulled out the P-90 that was on top of a stack of other weapons, probably from other victims. Taking another gun out of the drawer for himself, one of the Colonel's smaller ones, he handed over the P-90 and asked, "What's the plan?"

Sheppard checked his ammo and made sure the safety was off. "The plan is you get Carson the hell out of here. I'm staying behind to have a little word with Aerien."

Rodney's jaw dropped. "You're not serious. He'd kill you before you get that word out."

The other man shook his head. "No. Because I don't mean a word, exactly, as much as I mean I couple dozen bullets to the brain the second I see him. We can't let this guy live, Rodney. Think about it. So we get back to Atlantis. Then what?"

"But…"

"No buts." He pointed towards the door. "You'll have to come back for Teyla and Ronon anyway, so don't think I'm pulling a Doc and saying my goodbyes. You're gonna come back for me, 'cause if I have to crawl back to the gate I'm going to be very unhappy. Got it?"

McKay frowned. He got it all right. He just didn't like it. But he recognized the expression on Sheppard's face. "Good luck," he said, moving back to Carson.

The Colonel nodded once. "You too."

* * *

Oh no! The humans are loose! ;-) Thanks all for the lovely reviews from last chapter. +sniffles+ Shall I hand out Ronon cookies this time?


	11. Powerless

**Dark Element****  
**Powerless

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. The team is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

Water. Without it the human body cannot survive. Ecosystems would turn to ash and life would cease. Both Teyla and Ronon were sick of it. 

"It's really coming down." An astute observation, certainly, but it didn't take a comment from the Satedan to tip anyone else off. And he wasn't entirely accurate. The rain was not merely 'coming down'. That would imply some sort of gentility about the act. No, the rain was more hurling itself towards the ground at terminal velocity like a starved Wraith chasing a rabbit.

Teyla shoved her wet hair out of her face, trying to see him in the downfall. Each second her eyes were open the rain stung her, making concentration on visual searching very difficult at best. How their host was leading them anywhere definitive was beyond her comprehension. Cullen claimed to know these woods like the back of his hand, but the rain was so thick she couldn't see how he could see anything.

They had no choice but to continue, however. Oh, there had been a calming of the rains before they had set out on this journey. After a troubled, but mercifully dry, rest in the small inn, morning had dawned through gray clouds and intermittent showers. It wasn't going to be a pleasant trek to the temple, certainly, with all the mud and the burst of sprinkles now and then. But fearing for the lives of their companions Teyla and Ronon had insisted on leaving, so with a certain amount of reluctance Cullen had agreed.

The weather had turned terrifying and caught them nearly three quarters of the way towards the temple. Now the three of them were slogging their way through the forest while the ground shuddered beneath their feet. The forest was thick and more than once each of the companions had taken turns being struck in the face by branches and leaves blowing, falling into puddles as the mud gave way beneath their steps, and being pelted by falling sticks.

"Are we almost there?" Teyla shouted over the gusting winds when she spotted Cullen nearby.

He thrust his arm out, motioning towards the path ahead. "Almost! It should be right ahead of us!" She took little comfort from his assurance, praying inwardly he would prove her doubts wrong.

It took a little longer than he had led the Lanteans to believe, but some indeterminate amount of time later they came upon a structure. A canopy of metal and glass covered the ground for a distance, then melted into a stone building. In the distance they could see an angry sea churning with the storm. Without hesitation the three of them bolted for the threshold beckoning them beneath the cover of the glass.

Once underneath the protective covering Teyla leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. It was amazing, the difference. She could finally see straight, could finally _think_ straight, now that she wasn't being beaten half to death by the elements. Still, she wasn't completely relieved. "The glass?" she breathed, straightening to look at her companions.

Ronon was already examining their surroundings. "No damage from the weather." He pointed. "There's a big branch up there. Must have hit pretty hard, but there isn't even a crack. There must be some sort of shielding around the surface of the building.

She was taken back to when McKay had inadvertently closed himself up in an Ancient personal shield, preventing him from eating. "We may not be able to open the doors if we cannot find the source," she observed quietly.

"Maybe not," Ronon agreed, then shrugged as he sat down on a nearby stone bench. His dark eyes fixed on Cullen. "I think we better talk about this Dark One."

Cullen gave a derisive snort. "Superstition."

"What makes you so sure?" Teyla asked him. She wasn't one to believe in demons, but she knew tales had a way of being rooted in something real. She suspected this Dark One might just have been a Wraith.

"Please." The local waved his hand. "It's been thousands of years since the legend began. The only reason I know anything about it is because the town's always spreading some sort of story about how the 'Dark One's gonna get you if you don't eat your supper' and the like. More likely he was just some dark king of the ancient world."

Ronon crossed his ankles and leaned back. "These stories tell what this dark king looked like? What happened to him?"

Cullen shrugged, and then sighed as he realized they weren't going to let up. He sat down right on the ground and looked up at them with a patronizing expression. "Okay. I'll humor you. Let's see, the story goes that once the temple was dedicated to the Ancestors. They lived here in peace, surveying the lands around them for centuries. Then from out of the temple came the Dark One. No one's told me the story of his origins. We just know he did terrible things and took the souls of the Ancestors until they finally came here in greater numbers to stop him." He knit his brow in thought. "Some say he _was_ an Ancestor, if that tells you anything."

"An Ancestor?" Telya repeated, unable to contain her surprise.

"I know," Cullen agreed, shaking his head. "Honestly, I think the Ancestors themselves are myths, much less some sort of gods. But the authorities'll give you something to worry about if you dare mention _that_ particular theory in mixed company. Believe me, I know. And…"

A thunderous crash echoed, stopping Cullen's words dead in their tracks. He raced to his feet and whipped toward the direction of the noise. Teyla followed him to the pane of glass separating them from the rain. What she saw frightened her. The waters of the sea had broken upon the shore hard, knocking back a lone tree that was now being carried back out with the tide. They watched as it floated beyond sight. And then the water surged forward again, coming closer. It was still a good few hundred yards away, but those waves were gathering strength as the storm raged on.

"We're in some serious trouble," Ronon murmured, watching the fearsome sight. He shared a wary look with Teyla.

Cullen was panicked. "My god! I've never seen it that high before!" He covered his mouth, watching in horror as a huge wave chased the sand. "I've gotta get back to town and warn them before it's too late. The sea runs close on the other side of the mountain. Too close." He turned back. "You better come too."

Ronon shook his head. "We have things to do here."

"You're insane!" the younger man said urgently, throwing his arm towards the water. "Do you see that? It'll rip you apart when it gets this far inland! The temple might be protected, but you aren't."

Lightening flashed and thunder shook them. Teyla pulled Cullen towards the wilderness. "Thank you for your help, but we must stay. You, however, must go now if you want to reach them in time!"

He hovered for a long moment, between trying to convince them to come and just taking off. When he saw the resolve in both their faces he chose the latter and disappeared into the trees within minutes. Teyla turned back to Ronon gravely. "Let us hope we can get into the temple."

"You don't have to sell me," he replied, motioning towards the complex with his head. He pulled his gun out of his coat, shook the water off it, and they ran for it.

* * *

It was a total Darth Vader moment. Well, that was what Rodney called their current situation, anyway, citing the final scene in Return of the Jedi where Luke tried to help his dying father off the Death Star. He had quickly followed that thought up with the reassurance that he wasn't going to leave Carson behind. 

Through the windows flanking their sides they could see terrible flashes. Carson found his eyes drawn to the glass separating them from the tumult going on outside. He was no stranger to rainy weather, naturally. It came with the territory of his heritage. But what was going on out there was madness. He had never seen the like of such a storm and had no wish to see one ever again.

One arm slung around McKay, he stumbled through the shadows like he had taken a swill from his great uncle's "special" brew. The recollection made him smile despite the terrible reality of his current whereabouts. He had only ever tasted of that dark liquid once, having snuck into the barn late one autumn's night with his friends, and once had been quite enough for him. He had never walked so crooked in his life save for then and now.

The idea of using the gurney as transport quickly died when they realized how much trouble it was to push and push _quietly_. And Rodney couldn't carry the ailing doctor with his arm the way it was. All in all it was slow going, but Beckett counted it a miracle he had made it this far without falling flat, help or not.

There was no sign of Aerien. No telltale lights shimmered down the dim hallways, no noises announced the presence of their host. It should have been a relief, but neither of them could say they were comforted by the fact. Each step was one closer to a possible encounter.

In the dark the halls seemed endless and foreboding. After a few twists the physicist had confessed, finally, that he really wasn't entirely all that certain they were on the right path. In his exhausted state Carson had said nothing; it was all he could do to keep himself conscious, much less able to help his friend to navigate.

Halfway down a shadowy hallway that was lit only by the pale sea-blue wall of storm outside, McKay broke the silence and asked, "How are you feeling?"

They paused and the doctor looked up. "Wee bit shaky, but other than that, ready fer a marathon," he replied cynically, then promptly lost his balance.

"All right," Rodney breathed, catching him and easing him back towards the wall. "I can take a hint." He let Carson drop to the floor for a rest, then traipsed across the way to take a seat in front of him. He rubbed his fingers through his hair wearily, sparing the doctor a glance.

Carson took a long, deep breath and closed his eyes as he leaned back against the wall. He could feel the thunder in the walls and floor each time it rolled. He could also sense Rodney's discomfort each time it crashed as well. He opened his lids halfway to peer at him. "Ya a'right, Rodney? How's the arm?"

"Huh?" the scientist replied distractedly, then looked away from the window that had caught his attention. He took a speculative breath, looked about to say something, then waved his hand. "Hurts like Hell, but at least I'm breathing, right? I'm fine."

"What else is wrong?" Carson pressed, though he had an idea of what was bothering his friend. "Ya been quiet since we started." He had tried so hard to hide his weakness from McKay, but he knew his wearing down was as easy to see as the storm raging just a wall away.

Rodney shrugged, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Well, I just…" He looked at Carson with an unreadable expression. "What do you mean you're not cut out for this?"

The doctor closed his eyes again. "S'at what's botherin' ya, lad?"

"Yeah, it is," Rodney told him flatly. The Scotsman could almost feel his friend frowning. "And where the hell do you get off telling me to leave you because you're _dying?_"

"I said it so ya'd save John."

"In the meantime what, then? You gonna just give your life to that nutcase because you think it's going to save lives?"

Carson opened his eyes with a knit brow, gaze raking over the angry physicist. "Rodney, ya don't understand…"

That was exactly the wrong thing to say. It showed in McKay's face. "No, maybe not, but what I do understand is that I've got a best friend that's scaring the complete crap out of me right now." He motioned to himself. "Do you know how annoying it is to try and survive through this house of horrors with this friggen worry weighing me down every step? God, Carson, are you _trying_ to get me killed?"

"O'course not," the doctor replied in quiet tones. He sighed as he groped for some sort of response that wouldn't increase Rodney's upset. In the end all he could say was, "I wasn' tryin' ta worry ya, lad."

"Yes, I know." Rodney rolled his eyes, but Carson could see beneath through that particular mask, straight to the shaken state behind it. "You were trying to be selfless for Sheppard's sake. I get the whole St. Carson mystique, really, I do. But there's ways you could play that card without telling me you're dying. I mean you're a doctor. I don't know if you're just being you or telling the truth."

"I'm sorry," Carson said softly.

Rodney shook his head. "Not sorry enough."

Beckett felt his ire beginning to stir. He glared across the hallway. "What d'ya want from me, Rodney? I can' take it back now that it's done. What d'ya want me ta say?"

"I want you to say you don't give up!" The scientist matched his glare, then sighed. "Isn't it obvious, or are you going to make me get all gushy about it? I want you to live! So shoot me!" He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "I'm tired too, you know. I'm scared out of my damn mind. But I know you're cut out for all this, I know you'll survive, because if I can, so can you. Trust _me_, not that egocentric maniac, will you? For _my_ sake, to get _me_ through this hell, if you can't do it for yourself."

For a long moment the doctor just stared at his friend. He didn't know how to reply right away; he was speechless. The words inevitably had all the tact and sugar one could expect of any given Rodneyism, but when you got right down to it Carson knew why he had said all he did. Because he cared.

"I'm sorry, lad," he whispered, giving McKay a misty-eyed look. "I…I'll make it through this, and so will you." He didn't know if the first of that was true or not, but he was darn well going to pretend it was if it would make Rodney stop worrying about him long enough to survive.

Rodney opened one eye at that response. "Oh god, you're not crying, are you?" he asked point-blank.

Carson laughed lightly, shaking his head. "Naw. I yawned when ya weren't lookin'."

"Yeah, right." Rodney pursed his lips and studied his friend, then stood up to get the weary doctor moving again. He stretched his hand out. "You gonna make it?"

"Aye, I'm gonna make it." Carson gave the other man a reassuring smile, glad to have peace between them again, and just as their hands met a set of footfalls echoed from around a nearby corner.

The doctor froze, startled. Rodney used his fear as motivation and urged his friend up into his not so steady hold to find a hiding spot. He pulled Carson back away from the direction of the noise, groping with a free hand at a nearby doorknob. It was locked and the scientist cursed before moving on towards the next one.

A sudden beam of light poured through the hall. As McKay jerked uselessly at another locked door, Carson turned his eyes towards what he assumed would be their doom. The light turned the corner, stretching towards them from fifty feet away. Any second now it would fall upon them.

"Rodney," he breathed, going tense in fear. Had Aerien already taken care of John? The figure behind the beam was dark, draped in shadows. The light became too intense to stare into as it closed in on them. He squinted.

"Okay," McKay breathed, putting Carson against the wall to support him. He stepped back and fumbled through his pockets, hand shaking. He found what he was looking for just in time. Whipping the gun up, he pointed and closed his eyes as he fingered the trigger. "This is it!"

Two shadows separated, each flying towards opposite sides of the hall. Carson gasped in realization even as Ronon hissed, "_McKay!_ Put it down!"

When the gun hit the floor the doctor felt as though he would collapse from the sheer stress of the moment. He leaned back and splayed his fingers along the wall, taking a long breath. Rodney shook his head, looking between Ronon and Teyla with a shocked expression. "Holy…you should've said…I could've…" he stammered, then rubbed his forehead. "I need a vacation."

"Yeah, well, I guess we're lucky you aren't a very good marksman," Ronon stated dryly as he picked the weapon up and handed it back. He glared at the scientist. "Which is more than I can say for your skills at getting us out of that hole we've been stuck in."

"Hey, look, pal…" Rodney began defensively, then noticed something. "Why are you two wet?"

It was Teyla that headed off any arguments. Her eyes raked over both men, noticing the ragged state they were in. "Something has happened. What is it?" She looked at Beckett gently.

"God, we have been trapped here with the Ancient's answer to Satan," Rodney explained angrily. He motioned off in the general direction they had left. "He's been torturing us and we just now broke out of his happy little lab, which is where Sheppard is, before you ask. He's waiting for that…oh god, he's waiting for Aerien! All he's got is his P-90. Ronon, you have your gun, don't you?" The big man opened his drenched jacket and metal flashed in the soft light. McKay nodded enthusiastically. "Good, good! Keep it ready. We need to move like now, because he could be anywhere and believe me, you do not want to meet him without firepower as your greeting."

Looking between them in alarm, trying to soak up all McKay had told them in such a short little burst, Teyla shook her head. "Dr. McKay, perhaps you should start at the beginning."

"We don't have time!" he snapped, already motioning towards Carson. "Ronon, take his other side, will you? We have to get him to the transport rings or somewhere else safe, and then go back for Sheppard before he does something stupid."

"Like what?" Ronon asked, inserting himself beneath the doctor's left arm. The burden lifted from him as Rodney took his right was enough to make the doctor sigh gratefully.

McKay turned his head, looking past Carson's weary expression as he replied, "Like die."

Neither Teyla nor Ronon could supply them with a scanner, unfortunately, but the search was quicker now with help. Carson hung between the two men trying his hardest to do his part, but he had the sinking feeling he wasn't adding all that much power to their momentum.

Somewhere along the way they found the transport room. Never did a piece of technology look so good to any of them. McKay and Ronon eased the doctor down into the claw-marked chair, the same he had examined what felt like forever ago. And then the scientist disappeared into the transport room, muttering fantasies of food to himself in excitement as he dashed away.

Teyla moved to stand in front of Carson, looking down with a soft expression. "Are you all right?"

Carson nodded. He gave her a wan smile. "Nothin' a few weeks hidin' in me room won't cure."

"This Aerien person do this to you?" Ronon asked with a hard edge to his voice. "Is he really all that dangerous?"

The doctor repressed the urge to shudder. "Aye, lad. He's an Ancient. He has…powers…I can't even describe it." He looked up gravely. "Don' let him touch ya."

The other two exchanged glances, but before either of them could respond Rodney came flying out of the transport room with an enraged expression written across his features. "So help me god, I'm gonna kill that son of a…"

"What is it?" Ronon pressed, not letting him continue his tirade.

Rodney glared, throwing his arms up. "See this? See this darkness? There's a reason for it, you know." He kicked at a stray paper on the floor. "No power. Whatsoever. I'm guessing our friend didn't pay his bill."

"So what do you have to do to get it going again?"

The question made Rodney roll his eyes. "Hell if I know. Do a rain dance? I knew, knew, _knew_ something was going to go wrong. Nothing can ever be easy, because no. What would the universe want to make things easy for? And…"

"Dr. McKay, calm down," Teyla urged him pointedly. "You say this mad Ancient could be anywhere, yes? Then that is all the more reason to keep our voices down. We need a plan."

McKay opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it once more and let out a sigh. "Right. Okay. Well, first we need to get Sheppard. Top of the list. I say you leave that to me and Ronon, and you and Carson stay here. He's in no condition for a rescue, not that I am, but you know." He waved his hand. "No time like the present to run in, guns blazing, and die, right? Ready?"

Ronon nodded, and just as the two men turned to depart Carson stopped them, calling, "Rodney?"

The scientist turned around. "Yeah?"

"Don't ya think ya'd better leave us yer gun, lad?" He had noticed Teyla's empty-handed state and had no desire to meet Aerien without at least a fighting chance.

McKay wavered, however. "Last time I left a man a gun…"

Carson cocked his head to the side. "I'm not goin' ta shoot meself, Rodney, leastaways not in front o'Teyla." He smirked to reassure the other man. "I might have ta after ya give me another servin' o'that chicken o'yours, though. But that's later on an' this is now."

"Funny, funny guy," Rodney muttered, handing his firearm off to the Athosian. He shook his head, then he and the warrior were off.

And then he and Teyla were alone. He could see it in her eyes, the questions that threatened to come now that there was time to answer them. His little evasive answer from before wouldn't stall her. "You are injured," she observed, moving near him. "How bad is it? Can I help?"

It felt strange to be talking to her. He took a shuddering breath and realized just how certain he had been that he would never walk out of this place alive. "N-no, lass, thank you. I'm just…just a wee bit tired."

"What did this Ancient do to you?" The doctor knew she would have trouble equating the Ancients with the idea of torture and terror.

Carson turned his head away from her with a sigh. He couldn't speak it aloud right now, couldn't tell her the terrible things he was trying so hard to keep locked away from the surface of his heart. And true to her insight she picked up on that distress quickly and did not ask any more of him than he could give.

Her warm hand met his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze and he reached up to give it a grateful pat. Carson didn't want to close himself to his friends like this, but he just couldn't go through it again.

* * *

As always, thank you thank you+huggles:-) 


	12. Into Battle

**Dark Element****  
**Into Battle

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. Atlantis is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

The first time for an easy end to any given mission Lorne was handed was not today. The end of the hour he had given Zelenka had come and gone with assurances from the scientist that he could figure this out. It wasn't until half past that, with strange hissing noises made in a tongue other than the Major's native one, that something hopeful had happened. "Ha!" Zelenka shouted, lifting his hands in victorious celebration.

Lorne perked up from where he was sitting, leaned against the wall. "You get the bulkheads figured out?"

The Czech shook his head with a glance over his shoulder. "Well, no. But I did finally get it off this stupid utility screen it got stuck on. It's been bugging me for at least a half an hour now."

"Dr. Zelenka," Lorne groaned, pushing himself off the wall. He didn't have the stomach for such a disappointment.

Zelenka tapped the console a few times, lifting a finger to forestall any hasty decisions. "Give me just a…just a…yes." He turned around.

The bulkheads shuddered and began to lift. Lorne gaped in shock. "Doc?"

"I did it!" Zelenka said with a smile that faded almost as fast as it had appeared. "Well, at least I assume I did it."

"What?"

The scientist shook his head. "Nothing. What matters is that they are gone." He pushed his glasses up his nose and watched the bulkheads move to reveal an empty platform. Zelenka moved to stand in the new patch of floor, looking surprised as he directed his gaze upwards. "Look at this. Transport rings." He scratched his cheek.

"Just where is this going to send us?" Lorne asked, consulting his scanner.

Zelenka shrugged. "I couldn't tell you."

The Major looked at him. "Couldn't you have found a map? Just what were you doing all this time, anyway?" he asked suspiciously.

Raising his hands in defense, the Czech replied, "It was a complicated process. I assure you that you would not understand."

Suddenly Lorne swore, watching the dots on the scanner move. "There are two more life signs," he murmured gravely. "That makes our team, plus one more."

"Yes, well, good luck," Zelenka told him just a little hastily. He backed away from the transporter. "I will activate the controls once you step onto the pad, then remain and guard the Gate."

Lorne considered it, then shook his head. "I might need you on the other side. There's no guarantee McKay's in any condition to help us get back if we should run into another problem."

A little crestfallen, but resigned to the inevitable, Zelenka joined the team with a sigh. They gathered together and white light engulfed them at the push of a button. Much to everyone's collective relief there was no one on the other side that posed a threat. There wasn't much of anything save shelves lined with books and hardware. Lorne glanced at his scanner. "No one's in this part of the complex. Dr. Zelenka, can that transporter take us anywhere else?"

"Unfortunately, no," the scientist replied. "It is only set to a single location. Given time and the right equipment I could make it go elsewhere, but…"

"Yeah." Lorne pointed to a terminal across the way. "Why don't you take a look at that."

The Czech was already on his way, however, even as the Major completed his sentence. Zelenka assumed the position and after a little banging around looked up. "You're not going to like this."

He hadn't expected to. "What is it?"

"The power is off in the section my scanner is showing the life signs." He shook his head. "There is another set of transport rings on the other side of the hallway behind me, and it may take you where the others are, but I doubt it will bring you back without power."

"Can you get the power back?"

Zelenka pursed his lips. "I don't know. If the storm physically cut off the link between the ZPM and the building, I doubt it. I may be able to send power through the rings themselves."

Lorne let out a breath, then glanced at the Ancient device in his hand. He watched the dots on the screen speculatively. One had remained stagnant for as long as Lorne had watched. Two headed in that direction. Two more that had been part of four were now holed up in one area, one still and the other pacing. That left one last life form. This one had been separate from all the rest for the longest time and had remained unmoving until a moment ago. Now it was closing in on the two that were waiting. "Things are going on over there, Dr. Zelenka. It's a chance we're going to have to take." He looked up gravely. "Stay here and work on it."

Zelenka nodded once. "Good luck, Major." This time he said it in all sincerity.

That was good because Lorne had the nasty feeling they were going to need it.

* * *

The window at which Carson was seated overlooked the sea. He did not count this a good thing at this particular moment in time. Not when he could see said sea heaving back and forth, each forth bringing it uncomfortably closer. When a particularly hard gust of wind sent a splash of water crashing against the window he accidentally let out a squeak that he was very glad Rodney hadn't been there to hear.

"Ah, lass," he said, shifting in the chair as he watched a tree limb narrowly miss crashing into the glass. "I don't know about you, but this is makin' me a wee bit nervous."

Teyla shared his worry; he could see it by the expression she wore. "Ronon and I saw evidence there is a shield protecting the building, which would make sense if this place as been here for ten thousand years. However, if this one has no power…" She trailed off somewhat ominously.

"Then we're in a spot o'trouble, I'd say," he finished for her, blinking as a barrage of lightening flashes assaulted his eyes. "I wonder if Rodney and Ronon got to John a'right."

"Was John hurt as well?"

Carson nodded. "Aye, lassie. Seems our new friend had pain ta hand out ta us all three. If you and Ronon had been there…honestly, I'm not sure who woulda won the battle. I'd like ta think Ronon woulda knocked his head off, but Aerien…" He let out a breath, then decided to change the subject. "So, what happened ta ya both, anyway? Rodney said ya were trapped in some sort of bunker?"

With a sigh Teyla paced a few feet in front of the doctor, then turned back. "He was not wrong. We were trapped in the dark for what seemed forever. Dr. McKay had opened an air shaft that led to the surface, fortunately, or we would probably still be down there."

"How did ya manage ta escape, then?" he asked her, eyebrow quirked.

She motioned towards the window with a decidedly less than thrilled expression. "The storm flooded a nearby stream. In turn it flooded our bunker until we could swim through the shaft and make our way to safety. It was a very wet, very nervous experience."

The doctor widened his eyes, shuddering in his seat. "Love, that's terrible!"

"Yes," she agreed readily. "If I never have to swim again I will not be saddened, I think." Teyla crossed her arms and looked outside. "There are people here, you know. It is how we found you. A villager brought us."

A well of fear opened up in Carson's stomach. If there were people here then that meant Aerien could have a whole host of victims to murder in the name of science. The idea horrified the doctor. "I had no idea," he murmured, mostly to himself.

Teyla nodded. "They call your Aerien the 'dark one'. Apparently there are local legends about him stealing souls."

It was uncomfortably accurate and Carson looked away from her. "Aye. That's about the way of it."

"Are you all right?"

The question made him close his eyes as if he could hide. But he couldn't hide from her friendship any more. He nodded slowly, forcing himself to meet her worried gaze. "I'll be a'right. He jus' showed me things about meself I didna want ta see."

Teyla's eyes took on a familiar understanding light. "We all have flaws. It is the bane of our existence. Yet we show our true strength of character when we decide those flaws will not stop us from doing what is right."

"Thank ya, love," he replied gently, touched by her words of wisdom. It would be a while before he could convince himself of that truth and stop beating himself up for his faults, but through his friendships he was starting to really believe it was possible, no matter what Aerien had shown him.

Thunder roared outside as if angry with his realization that peace was possible. The Athosian moved to the window and pressed her hand against the glass as if it would impart some sort of understanding about the storm to her. "I have never seen such violence in the weather. It is as if the world itself is angry."

How close to the truth could that be, Beckett wondered, as he watched a single drop fall down the window two inches before being swept into five hundred others.

He wasn't the only one that agreed. "Perhaps the world is angry." The voice was soft, thoughtful, and so close chills ran up through Carson's spine. The Ancient was there at his right shoulder, having entered without either of the Lantean's knowing.

Teyla whipped around with wide eyes, but her surprise did not stall her reflexes. As Aerien reached for her she swept his arm off to the side, then threw her knee towards his stomach. The Ancient was quick, though, and dodged most of the blow, taking it to the hip instead. As Aerien flipped off to the side he grabbed Teyla by the arms, knocking her off balance. She tumbled and he sent the back of his hand into her cheek.

Carson pushed himself up at her cry of pain, determined to not stand on the sidelines while his friend was hurt. Anger pulsed through him, but unfortunately that was not enough to overcome his weakness. Aerien saw him move and was quick to throw the doctor down to the floor where he hit hard, letting out a gasp.

His companion was on her feet already, and successfully landed a kick in the Ancient's turned back. Aerien fell over Carson's legs, hit the floor, then rolled to his back with a vicious snarl. The doctor yanked himself out of harm's way as Teyla rushed to finish the job she had started.

There was just one problem. Her gun was on the floor. Carson saw it and made for it, relief flooding through him when his warm hand met the cold metal. He twisted and took aim, but Aerien was onto him. He kicked the weapon out of the doctor's hand, winning a shout of pain. The gun hit the ground and bounced, landing at Aerien's feet. The Ancient kicked Teyla as she lunged for the weapon, then swept it into his own hands.

The storm outside faded away from his thoughts as Carson watched in horror as Aerien drew his leg back and kicked her so hard she flew back a few feet. She screamed and the doctor's heart constricted. All breath left his body as he tried to see how she was. He had heard something crack, and panic fused him as he wondered what it was. "Teyla?" he asked, barely able to put voice to it. She was curled in a ball, favoring her left arm. Aerien knelt by her side, touching the side of her face gently as she shivered. "Don't you touch her!" Carson hissed, dragging himself up on hands and knees.

Aerien ignored him as he tangled her hair into his fingers and slammed her head against the floor, stealing her consciousness away. Then he straightened and jerked Carson up the rest of the way. Shoving him towards the door, he growled, "Move," and took aim at the doctor's head.

"I can', ya bloody fool!" he yelled, turning to meet his fate head on.

The Ancient would have none of that. He took hold of Carson's shirt, entwining it around his fingers as he shoved his victim forward on stumbling feet, saying, "Then I'll drag you."

Somehow in the pitch hallways outside the room they had just left Teyla in Aerien knew where to go. Carson had no idea what was going on or where they would end up. He could barely see, could barely think straight as he focused on keeping himself moving. His body ached in protest, but a cold nose of a gun at the base of one's skull had a way of making one do things he couldn't otherwise do. So he suffered the Ancient's mad drive towards their ultimate goal as best he could.

And when he fell Aerien made good on his word. Reaching down, he took Carson's arm and pulled him along the blackened halls, keeping him moving like some sort of animal on a leash. For a few feet Carson couldn't keep up; his hands and knees scraped along the floor painfully as he was forced forward. When he could finally force himself back to his feet a wave of dizziness threatened to knock him back down, but Aerien kept him walking even then.

He was barely aware of his surroundings until Aerien let him drop to the floor to jerk open a glass exit. Carson fell to his knees as freezing wind and rain washed over him. He threw his head back and looked out at the torrent awaiting him.

Aerien did not care. He was beyond insanity it seemed, for his destination lay out in the blustery wild. He pulled the doctor up again and forced him into the elements. Carson wrapped his arms around himself as the rain pounded down on him. It took mere seconds for him to get soaked to the bone.

At the end of a muddy path they came upon a small building near what appeared to be a dead garden. Aerien hurled Carson into the darkness inside, then closed the glass behind him. "It is time, Dr. Beckett, for your final gift to me. I will have your energy whether or not you choose to give it to me, I promise you that. But if you do not cooperate," his pale eyes flashed as lightening brightened the room momentarily, "then so help me I will torture your friends unto madness."

Carson ran his hands through his wet hair as Aerien went about the room lighting a few of his large candles. So this was it. This was to be his last stand or last sacrifice. He swallowed hard, knowing his strength would fail him if he tried to escape now. "How did a find us?" he whispered, trying to keep Aerien talking so he could think, do anything to stall the final moment until something could stop it. He looked up at the Ancient from where he sat on the floor.

"Are you implying the transport rings were not the first obvious place?" Aerien snapped in distaste. He shot a look at the doctor. "If you wish to know, however, I will tell you. I could sense you." He smiled. "A fortunate side effect of our interesting link. I knew when you left the infirmary and I felt when your surprise when your friends found you. I feel the fear that is causing you to shake even now."

"And where is this?" Carson continued, ignoring the implication. "Why did ya bring me here?"

Aerien turned with a finality about his expression that made Carson shiver. "These were Aila's quarters. I brought Sheppard here to give him life. I bring you here to die."

"Can' we talk about this?" Carson said, backing away as Aerien approached him. A wall against his back stopped any further retreat. "Killin' me isn' goin' ta bring her back, Aerien. Ya know that, don't ya?"

The Ancient laughed, kneeling before the doctor with shining eyes. "You have no idea what I am capable of." He reached for Carson then, moving his palms towards his temples.

Carson shoved his hands against Aerien's shoulders, forcing the Ancient back, causing him to fall to the side. He wasn't going to let this happen without a fight. Not ever again. Rodney and John believed in him. It was time he fought for that, even if he died protecting that belief.

And so he threw himself at the gun that Aerien had pocketed, tearing at the long coat in an attempt to take it back. The Ancient had the audacity to grin at this sudden ferocity. He kicked Beckett in the side, sending him sprawling to the floor, but in an instant Carson made ready to defend himself. Rolling onto his back, he caught Aerien as he attempted to pin him down, taking his jacket and throwing him off to the side. Aerien fell from being knocked off balance.

"There is no escaping this!" the Ancient shouted at him, picking himself up off the floor. He looked down at Carson. "Don't you see what we could do together?"

On his knees, water dripping down him, lungs fighting for every breath, Carson glared darkly at the man standing over him. "You're not goin' ta do this ta me, Aerien. I'm not goin' ta let ya."

Aerien let out a shriek of laughter, then drew his leg back. Before Carson knew what hit him he was on the floor, pain throbbing through his jaw and radiating all through him. He was dimly aware of being rolled onto his back, then of a sudden weight on his midsection as the Ancient held him down like some sort of vampire getting ready to feed.

Hands smoothed his hair back, then pressed against his temples. "You're going to help me get her back," Aerien growled low.

"No, lad, I won't," Carson whispered. He groaned as the familiar waves began throbbing through his head. With every last ounce of strength he pushed his hands against Aerien, trying to get him off. It wasn't going to be enough. Carson knew it even as he lifted his hands, but he was determined to fight until the end. He let what the Ancient was doing to him fade away and became aware of the little things, like the sound of the rain, slowing of his heart, the blood trickling down his jaw.

And he was aware of Aerien's wearing down. He had no conduit and was subject to the exhaustion of trying to steal energy from a victim that was fighting him every step of the way. The Ancient hissed angrily when he noticed just how hard the doctor fought the mental assault. After a long strong of moments he pulled away, gasping.

They shared eye contact in a private battle of wills until finally Aerien knew he was not going to frighten Carson into giving in. He looked almost hopeless for a second, closing his eyes as he hovered there above the doctor. And that's when Carson slammed his fist into the side of his head.

Aerien fell long enough for him to tear the gun out of his pocket. He sat up as Carson, now on his knees, aimed for his forehead with shaking hands. The Ancient laughed. "Are you going to kill me, bright creature?" he asked sarcastically.

Carson nodded once and fingered the trigger. "Aye."

* * *

As always, thankies:-) 


	13. The Storm Before the Calm

**Dark Element****  
**The Storm Before The Calm

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. Atlantis is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

"Bad, bad, _bad!_" McKay hissed, doing a little half-twirl in the middle of the infirmary. He stopped to peer at the silhouette of Ronon standing in the doorway leading back into the office. He threw his arms in the air. "This is just wonderful. You know I was just saying to myself, 'Gee, you know what would make this little adventure through Hell even more exciting?' And hey, who wouldn't want to disappoint me?"

"You sure he isn't unconscious somewhere in there?" Ronon rumbled, looking past him. "It's awfully dark in there."

McKay glanced around him again, then shook his head. "No. He isn't here. What now? I mean what now? I don't know what to do. This is just the perfect ending to a perfect escape."

The warrior stood back to let him stalk past, saying, "Calm down. We'll figure something out."

"Figure _what_ out?" Rodney flared back at him. He could feel his blood pressure rising and that on top of not having eaten in God knew how long, well he was pretty much ready to just hang it all and go postal. He glared at the rainstorm outside. "There's nothing to figure out, because I don't know how to get the power back on, even if it's possible, and we're down a man, and…just…grr!"

"Grr?"

"Yes!" McKay whipped back around. "Grr! In a big pretty package with a big red bow! This is getting way out of hand."

Ronon shook his head at the irate scientist. "We need the power back on. So we go find this Ancient and force him to tell us how."

"He could be anywhere."

"So we search."

For a long moment they stood there, McKay glaring and Ronon maintaining his defiant drive towards getting things done without falling apart. Well, it was nice _he_ could do that. Of course _he_ hadn't been stuck in here with Dr. Insanity for several hideous days, though, so he could afford to be calm and peaceful. Rodney balled his fists for a second, then took a long breath. "Okay, okay. I'm not helping. Think, McKay, think. God, I'm so tired I can't even…"

"Look, why don't we go back? I'll get Teyla and we'll go search. You stay with Beckett."

Rodney blinked. "Really? I mean you wouldn't….you wouldn't mind?"

Cocking his eyebrow, Ronon took on a subtle expression and said, "Would _you_ rather search with you or Teyla?"

The scientist gave a conceding nod. "Good point. Let's go."

They left the office in a rush and made the trip in a short amount of time now that they had a pretty good recollection of the path. About halfway down the final hallway the duo ran into a rather startling development. Water crept down the floor towards them at a startling pace. It was only an inch deep, but the fact that it was there at all worried the Lanteans. They picked up their pace to a sprint, kicking up splashes as they ran for the transporter room.

Ronon made it in first, calling, "Teyla? Carson?"

The warrior found one of them just as Rodney slid into the room behind him. He stopped dead as Ronon knelt down a very wet, very unconscious looking Teyla. "Oh my god! Is she okay?" He looked around the room. Two of the windows were shattered, permitting the entrance of the overflowing water from the sea. He gaped as he looked for a dry spot of land. There were none.

Ronon lifted the Athosian out of the pool of water that had surrounded her. Her lashes fluttered as the shock of being moved awakened her. A moan of pain escaped her lips and that's when McKay noticed the funny way her arm just dangled. Ronon was already pulling her jacket open to get a better look. "It's been broken," he announced in low tones.

"Crap," McKay breathed, running his hand through his hair. Then his already wide eyes went a little bit wider. "Carson? Carson!"

"He has been taken." Teyla's voice stalled the physicist mid-stride as he headed for the chair he had left his friend in. McKay turned towards her as Ronon helped her to her feet, using the sleeve of her jacket to make a rudimentary sling. Her eyes washed over McKay gravely. "The Ancient came and we fought. He attacked me and took Carson."

Ronon's expression turned deadly. "Where is this Ancient?" he asked Rodney with a dark earnest.

Of course Rodney had no idea and opened his mouth to say as much, when the room filled with white light. He instinctively turned towards the transport rings, afraid of what might come through once the wormhole delivered.

He about fainted when he saw Major Lorne heading a team of soldiers. "Oh, thank God," he sighed. "It's about friggen time."

Lorne gave him a look. "Glad to see you too, McKay."

"How did you get through the first transport rings? There was a bulkhead…"

"Dr. Zelenka took care of it," the Major responded just a little too cheerfully. McKay opened his mouth, closed it, opened it to speak again, then settle for a grunt in response to that little bit of information. Lorne allowed himself a smirk, then moved back to business. "Where is Colonel Sheppard?"

"Don't know," Ronon replied simply. "He and the doctor are missing."

Lorne pulled out a scanner and Rodney grabbed it from him before he could even look. "Come on, come on," he said as he powered it up and searched. "Bingo! Three life signs! God, _three_ life signs. Aerien's with them."

"Who's Aerien?" Lorne asked.

Rodney rolled his eyes, knowing the seconds his friends were danger ticked right on by. "Look, we don't have time for this. If you go and see three men, two of which are Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Beckett, _shoot_ the other guy! Don't even ask questions, just nail him."

"That dangerous?" The Major motioned for his team to get moving. "Right. You three get back to safety. This part of the complex looks like it's falling apart. Zelenka says he can use the power from the other building to power the transport rings. There's a medical detail on the other side." He handed McKay a radio. "We'll take care of Sheppard and Beckett."

"I'm gonna send some of the medics after you," Rodney told him. "Carson isn't in good shape. Neither is Sheppard, for that matter."

"Okay. Just tell them to stay clear."

Within minutes they disappeared down the hallway. Rodney turned towards Ronon and Teyla "Okay, gosh, he got you good, didn't he?" he said, noticing the pain the Athosian was in. He motioned to his own arm. "Look, we kind of match." Teyla declined to answer, in too much pain, and he siged. McKay lifted the radio. "McKay to Zelenka."

"Rodney?" The voice on the other side sounded relieved. "It is good to hear your voice again."

"Yeah, well, power this thing up and bring Teyla, Ronon, and I across. Then you can gush all you want to." Upon reflection he supposed he didn't have to sound so snippy, but he was getting impatient to be out of this place.

There was a momentary pause. "On second thought, it isn't that good to hear."

"_Radek_…"

"All right, all right," the Czech replied hastily.

For the first few moments after McKay and Beckett had departed, leaving Sheppard alone with his P-90 and a plan, he had remained standing with his weapon trained on the door and a traditional death glare fixed on his expression. Maybe that was a little over the top, he had conceded, but he was very in the mood to kill Aerien. It was as if fate had brought him to this moment for the express purpose of the sheer fun he would have in blowing the evil Ancient to hell.

* * *

Time, the unseen thief, came and seconds bled into long moments. His arms had gotten tired, which was hardly a surprise since he already felt as though he had been dropped in a giant-sized washing machine on spin. And so John had graduated from standing like the commando of the year to, more or less, sitting like the commando of the year. He had hurled himself back onto his gurney, gun at the ready.

After a short while he had struck a more casual pose. After all, Aerien could be sleeping, having dinner, or even trying to kill a rat with a magnifying glass held up to the sun for all he knew. This waiting could take time.

So he sat with his gun propped on the gurney, the nose of it tapping against his chin as he wondered idly whether or not Rodney and Carson had managed to get out. Oh, if his drill sergeant could have seen that, he didn't doubt he would be doing push-ups until next week.

When the lights had gone out, well then that signified it was time to just get moving. At that point he threw himself off the gurney and with pursed lips, stumbled through the dark towards the exit, muttering about sitting around waiting for nothing. The office did not offer illumination, nor did the hallways, save the light coming from sickly skies braving one monster of a storm.

The burden was on John then to decide what to do. Should he forget Aerien and try to escape? Should he go looking for the man to kill him? Several times he tried to head towards the transport rings, but there was this nagging feeling that stopped him. He wandered the halls a while, trying to decide whether or not he was turning into a mother hen, for he couldn't shake the feeling that Carson was in trouble.

But then, weren't they all in trouble as long as Aerien lived and breathed?

Yet the feeling just wouldn't go away. It was as if he could feel the Ancient's intention to kill his friend at last, before anything could stop him. And so John was currently creeping down a dark hallway, gun aimed straight ahead, searching for the Ancient if only to prove himself wrong first, then explore the joys of killing with him. He kept telling himself that Carson and Rodney were safe on Atlantis, and that he was merely doing his duty by leaving no enemy behind, even if that enemy could quite probably kill him instead.

Now he wondered, as he leaned against the wall and peered around a corner, where would Aerien be?

He cycled through a list of possibilities—including the transporter room—but the Colonel knew Aerien enough to figure that if he had gotten a hold of Carson he wouldn't stick around right there for much longer. There was always the possibility that Aerien could be in his own quarters, sleeping peacefully despite all the havoc he had caused.

No. It just wasn't right and he knew it. He didn't know how he did, but the sensations running through him wouldn't go away and couldn't be brushed aside. Aerien wasn't asleep.

"All right, Obi-Wan," he whispered, knitting his brow. Maybe the Ancient had done something to him, connected them somehow by using him to get to Carson. It sounded stupid, but so did the rest of it when you got right down to it. He started down a particular hallway nearby, whispering, "I'm secure enough to give the Force a shot. Where are you, Aerien?"

There were no sudden images in his mind like Teyla got when she was invading Wraith minds. There was just that cold feeling of certainty and hunger for death. The Ancient was ready to do anything to gain the power he needed for his so-called godhood and in raising Aila.

Sheppard stopped in his tracks as the realization dawned on him. He knew exactly where Aerien was—right where Aila was, or what was left of her. He had said her spirit roamed the quarters and John had assumed he was waxing poetic, but maybe, just maybe he was crazy enough to believe she really was there in that room.

It was where he was and it was where he had taken Carson; Sheppard knew it. And so he stalked the shadows until he found a window that showed him his destination. Aila's little quarters by the gardens shimmered out at him through the storm, coupled two forms moving towards it. "Gotcha," he growled, gripping his gun as the adrenaline pulsed through him.

He found a doorway that opened up into the violence outside. At the end of a flooded hallway it stood, swinging back and forth with the wind, all the glass shattered. There was a fallen tree on the stones outside. A great thunderclap echoed through the air.

Sheppard made his way through the puddle that invaded the complex floor. Rain welcomed him within feet of the threshold, stinging his skin and forcing him to squint as he stepped out into it. Down a short pathway he could see the house and garden, could see wan light beckoning him. He wasted no time in following the summons.

Aerien was there. And so was Carson. They were fighting and for a second Sheppard cheered his friend on for slamming his first into the Ancient's jaw. But then he took hold of a gun, pointing it at their captor.

Sheppard might have gladly watched his friend shoot the man that had hurt him so terribly, but the choice was taken when Aerien used his sudden presence to take Carson's attention away from what he was doing. The Ancient had noticed him at the last second, murmured something John couldn't understand, and Carson made a fatal error. He glanced at the door to confirm the intrusion.

John swore and forced his way into the house, slamming the door against the wall and sending glass shards everywhere as Aerien knocked Carson's aim off its trajectory. A shot rang out and a bullet zinged past the Colonel's head, embedding itself in the wall behind him. In response jerked his P-90 up without missing a beat, but Aerien was not already willing to concede just yet. The second shot hit its target.

The next thing Sheppard knew was that his back had hit the wall hard, and he was now sliding down to the floor. A sudden pain in his shoulder set off alarms in his momentarily hazy thoughts. John cried out in pain, racing his hand to the new wound. Scarlet warmth trickled through his fingers.

"I'm not through with you, Beckett," Aerien hissed darkly, hurling the physician aside as he tried to come to his friend's rescue. He pointed the gun at Sheppard's head. "But I _am_ through with you!"

Another shot rang out. John cringed, sure he was dead and was startled to discover moments later that no, he wasn't actually dead just yet. He opened his half-closed eyes and watched as Carson dragged his would-be killer to the ground. The shot had missed! Sheppard breathed a sigh of relief.

And then he noticed that the doctor now had the high ground on Aerien, and was pointing the gun with shaking hands and a darkness in his eyes that John had never seen before. Aerien glared up at Beckett. "You aren't going to kill me."

"I wouldna bet on that," Carson hissed, taking a step nearer.

This would be the doctor's first cold kill. It wasn't right and John knew it. This kind of thing would linger and weigh on a man like Beckett for the rest of his life. He knew that by experience and wasn't going to let it happen. "Doc, don't," he said gently, trying to reason him out of this.

This time Carson didn't take his eyes off Aerien. "He deserves ta die, John. Ya know it as well as I do. Look what's he's done ta ya, ta me!"

"Maybe, but…"

"No! I'm goin' ta do this."

"Beckett, stand down!" Sheppard commanded a bit more earnestly. If he could keep Carson uncertain for just a little bit longer…

Aerien laughed at the doctor. "If you shoot I will return and your people will feel the full extent of my power. You have no idea what I am capable of."

His words were a bit childish, perhaps, and all together annoying, Sheppard thought, as he labored through the pain to raise his P-90. But he had to reflect on a private 'thank you' to the Ancient for the distraction before he said, "Shut up," and pulled the trigger. Aerien went down without another word, his blood spattering the white carpet beneath him. Sheppard dropped his weapon with a hard groan, holding his shoulder as a white searing wave throbbed through the gunshot.

What he hadn't counted on was Beckett throwing himself down, sending a right hook into his jaw. He fell back, totally unprepared for that move as the doctor grabbed his collar and hissed, "_Why!_ Why did ya do that?!"

Somehow he thought saying, _It seemed like a good idea_, wasn't one. Seeing his pain, regaining his own senses, the doctor sat back away. He seated himself at the Colonel's side, angrily jerking back the torn shards of his black shirt. Sheppard winced, touching his lip.

"Ya took my revenge from me," Carson whispered hard, ripping at his own shirt, balling it up and pressing it against the wound. He glared into the Colonel's eyes.

Sheppard held his shoulder to stall the bleeding. Beckett threw himself at his side to rest now that the burden had been taken from him. "I know. It was kinda rude, wasn't it?" He sighed as he looked over the dead Ancient's unmoving form. "I wouldn't get too mad though. You're gonna need me to drag you out of here. If I don't need you, that is. I'm feeling a little shaky at the moment."

The doctor frowned at him. "Stop yammerin'. This isn't some sort o'joke, ya right bloody bas—"

John shook his head to forestall his friend from saying anything he would regret. "Look, I wasn't going to let you live with that kind of burden on your shoulders. I'm sorry if that hurt our friendship, but that's the choice I made. Ow," he growled, flexing the fingers of his hand on the gunshot side. "Damn it."

"Because I'm not cut out for this sort o'thing?" Beckett added to his defense bitterly.

"No." Sheppard gave the other man a firm look. "That's not it at all. I did it because I don't want those things that make you _you_ to change. People need you to be a healer."

For a long moment Beckett wouldn't relent, his eyes still dark and angry. But then weariness won out. He turned his gaze on the rainfall. "Thank ya, lad." The doctor let out a sigh. "I dunna think I could move even if I saw a nymphet wavin' a sack o'cash at me with a promise in her eyes. I s'pose all we can do now is wait."

"Yeah. Just like in the movies." The Colonel smirked suddenly, moved his cheek onto Carson's shoulder, and mustering the softest voice he could, said, "Oh Frodo!"

Carson elbowed him none-too-gently in response. "Get offa me ya cheeky bugger." He rolled his eyes and pulled himself away.

It was a serious thing he had taken from his friend, John knew. He was no stranger to that cold, seductive voice that vengeance called a man with. The doctor wore a haunted expression that betrayed emotions John himself had experienced. The vision brought up dark memories of Kolya. Even now it stirred up the old feelings. At least he had this. He had spared his friend something that would have changed who he was, and not for the better.

He knocked the doctor's arm with his hand. "Hey. How are you feeling, anyway?"

Carson gave him a sandy-eyed look. "Are ya kiddin', lad?" He let out an expansive breath. "A long time ago I used ta have this fantasy that I knew what true exhaustion felt like. Let me tell ya somethin', a 24-hour shift at the end o'two weeks bad sleep has nothin' on the way I feel right now."

"Heh," John grunted through a yawn. "No kidding. I think I'll sleep for a few days at least when we get back. I keep having these daydreams about my mattress…"

"Well, ya won't be seein' that right away, I can tell ya that right now."

Sheppard cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

Carson looked at him a long moment, waiting for it to click. "Ya think I'm goin' ta let ya just wander on ta yer quarters, then, in that kinda shape? Not bloody likely."

The Colonel rolled his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. "Yeah, well, at least I'll have company." He threw a sidelong glance at the physician.

The other groaned, but didn't say anything in response. It was an inevitability that neither one of them could escape, John supposed. And speaking of escape, he threw his gaze out the shattered glass doorway just on the off chance that Rodney might somehow wander out and rescue them. There was no such luck, but he did see something of interest. "Hey, Carson?"

"I'm tryin' ta die in peace," the doctor complained sleepily.

John looked and saw his friend slumping against the wall, eyes closed and arms cuddled around himself. He sighed. "I hate to ruin that for you, but we're not out of the woods just yet."

Those blue eyes opened like a trap springing open. "What d'ya mean?"

"You want me to lie so you have a few more minutes to sleep?"

"_Lad_." John pointed at the water flooding the yard at that plaintive tone. The doctor glanced at it, then looked back at Sheppard through a grave expression. "That's no' funny."

Sheppard shrugged innocently. "I didn't put it there." He watched the water lap at the dirt down the beaten pathway towards the rest of the complex. "We're gonna have to do something about this, you know."

"Aye."

"Sooner, rather than later."

"_Aye_."

The doctor's tone reflected most of the feelings running through Sheppard as he pressed a hand against the floor to push himself up. "Come on, Doc," he said, holding his shoulder painfully. "We've made it this far."

Carson joined him rather reluctantly. "Why do people always say that? I mean it's no' as if that means there's some sort o'guarantee that we've got a free ticket through the next bit o'rough and tumble."

John shrugged, but didn't respond, figuring he was probably right. Draping his good arm around the doctor, he leaned against his friend even as Carson leaned into him, and said, "Yeah, well, here's to the little things that drive you crazy right to the end, eh?" He smirked at the doctor's cynical expression.

"Aye, an' ta the drinkin' that'll occur after we make it through."

The first step out into the rain was as expected—cold and stinging. The path before them was slippery and seemed much longer on the way back than it had on the way up. Each new step brought them closer to their goal, however, and so they pressed on without tarry as the seawater inched towards them. "You know I really, really hope Rodney has the whole bulkhead thing figured out by the time we make it back. Where is he, anyway? Why isn't he with you?"

The doctor stopped reflexively and looked at him. "Ya mean they didna find ya?"

"_They?_" Wiping his wet face, John squinted in the rain to see the doctor. "Who? What's going on?"

"Teyla and Ronon!" Carson replied, and his face went stricken. "And John, Teyla…she's been hurt pretty badly. Aerien did it ta her. Ronon and Rodney went ta find ya."

Instinctively, John pressed the doctor into moving again, saying, "We've got to get to her."

"Aye."

As they neared the entrance a piece of the complex crumbled under the stress of the sea crashing against it. There was a great splash followed by a wave that swept toward the two men too rapidly to be avoided. John took the brunt of the blow and fell to his knees, away from Carson's grasping hands.

"Lad!" Carson shouted over the torrent swirling around them. "Are ya a' right? The place is bloody fallin' apart!"

Sheppard swallowed a mouthful of water, choked and grasped blindly for help. His hand found Carson's after a few moments of struggling, and he struggled to his feet. "I'm fine," he replied, still coughing. John looked up and watched another chunk of marble brick wall teeter a few yards away. "This is bad!"

"No lyin'! Come on."

Still trying to clear his lungs, Sheppard followed that order like a man on a mission and as soon as they passed out of the cold and into the darkness of the building, he sank down to his knees again, this time by his own will. Carson flopped down beside him. "At this rate the whole place'll be down in an hour," he observed, out of breath and pale.

Sheppard nodded as he glanced back out towards the little building that now served as a tomb for their enemy. "Well, he always seemed buried in his work." He nodded towards the outside.

He didn't see the pale ghost of a smile brush across Carson's lips. John was too busy falling toward the floor. He was aware of another gust of water blowing in from the open doorway they had just left behind, and of the doctor's hands on him, trying to rouse him. It did no good. His strength had just bled dry.

And then a voice sounded in the darkness closing in around him. "Colonel? You look awful. Medics! We have a gunshot wound! Get over here!" It was Lorne. Or a figment of his imagination that sounded like Lorne, anyway. John couldn't open his eyes to confirm it, so he simply gave himself to the darkness and trusted that fate and luck that his being laid out on a stretcher wasn't a hallucination.

Somehow he had the feeling it wasn't. Especially when one of the soldiers said, "Major, we've got a problem."

* * *

There shall be whump every step of the way! ;-) Thanks guys+sniffle+


	14. The Little Things

**Dark Element****  
**The Little Things

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. Atlantis is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

Appearing on the other side of the Ancient outpost had been like stepping from darkness into the sunshine. It was a huge weight off of McKay's shoulders, to go from certain death to certain life. Medical officers were standing by in their clean uniforms, bearing comfy looking stretchers, and heck, even seeing Zelenka had brought the momentary ideation of a friendly smile to the physicist's mind. 

Teyla had been whisked off to the Stargate so that her broken arm and bumped head could be treated, but though Rodney was starving practically out of his mind, he wasn't about to leave without making sure Beckett and Sheppard got out okay. And so he remained behind, standing with Ronon and Radek at the control panel, nervously watching the blips on the screen as he munched on a power bar.

At his side one of the remaining medics was attending to his arm—a relatively painful procedure. She unwrapped the makeshift bandage from around his arm slowly, but each little tug made him grit his teeth. He was almost afraid to look, to see what damage Aerien had done. He could remember the sound of his flesh being ripped by the Ancient's hand, could remember the warmth of his own blood trickling in droves down his flesh.

The medic took in a breath and held it at the sight of what was beneath the bandage. Rodney dared a glance and saw a very large, very gory mess where his arm should have been. Absently, he flexed his fingers, and even that small motion caused a stinging pain to sear across his flesh. He looked away hurriedly, content to be in the dark about the rest of what his arm looked like. The next thing he knew a needle full of morphine was jabbed into his thigh for quick absorption and he thought, _Oh good. Trading my intelligence for painlessness._

"So, what happened?" Radek asked, his voice breaking the quiet.

McKay rolled his eyes. "Insanity. Ancient style. We were held captive by an Ancient scientist." He motioned towards the three dots. "Brilliant, I'll give him that. But completely, utterly and irrevocably nuts."

"Could we learn from him?"

"Oh, no way." Rodney shuddered. "He's way too dangerous." His eyes went a little abstract. "If you'd have seen Carson... No way."

Zelenka looked up with a solemn expression. "Is he all right?"

"Yeah, mostly." McKay pursed his lips. "That Ancient's been dabbling in quantum energy. He knew how to manipulate dark matter, Radek. He was trying to steal it from Carson because he said something about it being brighter and stronger, probably because, well you know Carson. He's a cream puff, born ready for Ascension. Scary stuff. The Ancient actually had it for a while, but he just couldn't hang onto it forever."

"Aether?" Radek's tone was dubious.

"Uh-huh. That's not the half of it. He was trying to _destroy_ energy, too. Now you see what a case he was."

That little barrage of information painted a startled expression on the Czech's face. "Yet another fine idea from our friends. They are insane."

McKay blinked. "Who, the Ancients?"

"Who else?"

He laughed. "Yeah really."

They watched the three dots representing the Colonel, Carson and Aerien, flip around the room before one of the life signs abruptly dropped off. A twitch of fear had passed through Rodney at that point. Who had just left this world for the next? He had no way of knowing, of course. He would use his brilliance and logic to speculate, but no matter what he told himself it just wasn't like seeing his two friends walk out from the hallway together.

McKay sank down in a nearby chair and looked up at his colleague with a somewhat speculative expression. He had a question in mind, but wasn't entirely all that certain he truly wanted to know the answer. There was a certain glint in those icy blue eyes of Radek's that warned Rodney he might be walking into a trap. Zelenka noticed him, however, and took the choice to remain silent away from him, saying, "What is it, Rodney? Marveling at my genius?"

For a second McKay glared his response, the decided to go ahead. "How did you get the bulkheads away from the transport rings? I don't suppose they went down automatically when you exited the Stargate?"

Zelenka shook his head. "No, as a matter of fact. It was very stressful thing, having to argue with the Ancient terminal on the other side. I was quite beside myself." He glanced over the rims of his glasses.

"Uh-huh." McKay crossed his arms and leaned back. "So, what was the solution, then?"

The other man didn't look up from the terminal. "Input codes in reverse. A novel, if somewhat crude approach."

"Yeah," Rodney agreed dryly, watching and waiting. He blinked. "I figured that out in the lab. It just came to me and that's how we escaped."

Zelenka nodded in slow appreciation. "Very good, Rodney. Very brilliant." Quiet fell between them for a long moment. Rodney relaxed against his chair and Radek kept vigil over the events transpiring across the complex. And after an appropriate time had passed the Czech looked up with an unreadable expression. "I think you should know something."

"Yeah, and what is that?" McKay asked impatiently.

"It only took me an hour and a half to figure out that the pass codes had to be input backwards." The silence following that was ominous and triumphant. Ronon gave the Czech a confused look, but said nothing.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I still figured it out before you did, because I got us out of that lab what, forty minutes ago? You guys didn't come through the Stargate until about twenty minutes later, so…"

"Ah, but had I been here with you from the beginning…" He stopped short, staring at the panel before him. A sudden beeping noise went off and the Czech started murmuring in his own tongue, converting to English only to say, "Bad news, Rodney."

McKay pulled himself away from the comfort of his chair and rushed up to the panel to see what was going on. The screen flickered as Zelenka navigated through the alerts to get a visual on what was occurring. A representation appeared onscreen that bore a very familiar likeness.

"_Crap!_" McKay hissed, staring at the image.

"What is it?" Ronon asked, drawing out of his solemn quiet.

"The transport room on their end just got buried in rubble and sea water." Rodney shook his head in frustration. "I think this friggen complex is haunted, because this is getting ridiculous. How far is the nearest building in relation to them, Radek?"

Zelenka punched up a few calculations and images. "It would take them half of night to walk under normal circumstances. Bearing injured in a storm like this…"

"Yeah, yeah." Rodney glared at the screen. "Not to mention the sea creeping forward. I don't like those odds. We're gonna have to get a jumper out there."

"And it would fly out of the gate room how?"

McKay cursed. "Good question." He hovered between the transport pad and Radek's control panel, trying to deduce where he was most likely to find the answers he so desperately sought.

The Czech scientist waved his arms, the panic of the moment catching on. "Well, I would think! But without the data to confirm such a hypothesis our people are, how you say, screwed?" The panel beeped, drawing his attention.

A long moment of rushing and muttering passed between the gentlemen in the control room. Rodney stared, waiting for word on what the next problem would be, if that noise he just heard was any indication. When lights started flashing and the loud call of an alarm hit the air he knew it had to be bad. "What's going on?"

Zelenka stopped hissing in his own language, stared at the panel with wide eyes, then said hastily. "Nothing. I mean I'm sure I'm wrong."

"What are you talking about?" McKay growled. He had to admit he was feeling mildly freaked out by the other man's response. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Zelenka insisted, fingers racing over the panel. "Nothing. I hope it's nothing. I have to be wrong."

There certainly was something going on. "Radek, this is _not_ the merry sound of nothing! Would you friggen tell me what it is?"

The scientist turned with a very solemn expression. He pointed at the panel as if it were a death warrant. "Tell me that I am wrong, Rodney."

McKay stared at the panel with a sinking feeling and replied, "Oh crap."

* * *

Rapidly moving footfalls woke the doctor from a pleasant unconsciousness. Shortly after Sheppard's fall and Carson's subsequent attempts to revive him, heralded by the imaginary fanfare of Heaven's greatest choir Major Lorne had appeared with angels dressed in field gear flanking his sides. 

Safety at last! Carson had given himself over to the care of medics urging him back onto a stretcher and the last thing he saw were the concerned blue eyes of one of the Italian nurse that had transferred to Atlantis a week ago. Exhaustion had robbed him of any further ability to remain awake, so he let himself drift off without a fight.

Steady beeping, hushed voices and the metallic clang of medical tools being jostled was what he should be hearing right now, or so he would have thought. It felt like he had slept forever. But it was rainfall that met his ears, and the rushed tones of a soldier reporting to an officer. Judging from the hard surface beneath his back, Carson didn't think he was in the infirmary. He opened his eyes and saw lightening flash along a rocky ceiling above him.

Momentarily confused as his mind fought to complete consciousness, Carson gasped and sat up rapidly, then fell back as a wave of dizziness flooded him. "Calm down, Doctor," a voice ordered from nearby. He dragged his eyelids back open as Major Lorne came to stand over him, laying a steadying hand on his shoulder.

He remained on the makeshift rock bed as the realization he was still safe dawned on him. "What's goin' on? Where's Colonel Sheppard?"

Lorne's expression remained neutral, but there had been a flicker there at the end of Carson's questions. "We have a little situation, Doctor."

Carson sighed. "Lad, I just been through Hell an' back. No need ta sugar coat it."

"Fair enough." The Major looked at him a moment. "We're stuck here for a little bit. The complex collapsed where the transport rings are. There's no way we're getting back to the Stargate by foot, so we have to wait for a jumper. Unfortunately, the storm is giving us a little trouble with the radios. It's a monster."

"Lord, I swear," Carson lamented, glaring at the ceiling. "I'll never get off this planet."

Lorne smiled at him. "Now, now, Doc. Don't be pessimistic."

Beckett wanted to give him an incredulous look, but didn't have the energy. He settled for what he figured was a pitiful expression of confusion, judging by the speculative look the Major fixed on him. He ignored that for the moment. "Where's Sheppard?"

There was that flicker again. Carson knit his brow and Lorne relented. "He's in another part of the cave, not far," he nodded with his head. "He's unconscious, Doc, but don't worry. There are medics taking good care of him as we speak."

After throwing his friend a glance, the doctor again tried to push himself into a sitting position so he could see about the Colonel. The attempt was followed up by a firm denial by Major Lorne's hand on him. "I don't think so."

"Major," Carson began impatiently.

Lorne shook his head. "They'll handle it. There's nothing for you to worry about. You're as pale as a ghost and in no better shape than he is. Would you want him to get up if he had been the first to awaken?"

"Well…"

"See? We'll get you both out of here, Doc. Don't worry." The Major watched him with a gentle resolve that ultimately made Carson settle.

"Is he a' right otherwise?" he asked earnestly. "They takin' care o'his shoulder?"

Major Lorne nodded without hesitation. "He'll be just fine."

It was little comfort, but seeing as his energy was at an all time low, Beckett had little choice but to give in to the Major's suggestion. He leaned back to placate the man above him and asked, "What about the flood?"

The other man gave him a look. "I won't lie. Getting to this cave was a hell of a run, but don't worry. We're on high ground." He looked the doctor over, then turned towards one of the medics. "Towel?" Moments later one was tossed and Lorne handed it and a power bar to Beckett. "How are you feeling?"

Carson accepted the towel gratefully, bringing the warm softness to his face and hair. "Thanks, son. And I feel like I been hit by a ruddy jumper."

Lorne shook his head. "Well, just relax. We'll have you back on Atlantis in no time." With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, the Major retreated to the beckon of one of the soldiers.

The doctor toweled off his hair, then set the cloth down at his side. He held the power bar in his hand with the full intention of tearing it open as he waited for his senses to settle. There was a dull ache in his midsection where food should be, but unfortunately suffering from vertigo didn't accommodate such ideas very well.

Carson glared at the ceiling, thinking of Aerien. It felt almost unreal now, like some sort of fantasy he had had. Or was this the fantasy? Any minute now he expected to have this semblance of peace ripped away from him. He _knew_ Aerien was dead, and yet it didn't feel like it.

Now that his adrenaline had faded he could fully appreciate just how exhausted he really was. It seemed laughable that not long ago he had been able to stand and aim a gun. His head was still pounding, but of course there was nothing new there. He idly wondered if it would ever go away. It frightened him to think that Aerien's ministrations may have lasting physical effects.

Not to mention the psychological ones. He closed his eyes, fists clenched, power bar long forgotten on his chest. He had found the light, found the will to fight, but the darkness was still there, still taunting him from deep within.

_No_, he thought to himself, trying to shove those thoughts away. Carson forced himself to take several deep breaths. It was neither the time nor the place to let himself succumb to the tide he could feel welling inside him.

Keeping his eyes tightly shut, he searched his memories for something else to think about for a little while and came back with a song his mother used to sing when she went about the housework. It was a stupid little tune, really, about a sailor and his bonnie lass, and he wasn't even sure what brought it to his mind just then. But the words didn't matter. It was searching for them that kept him distracted from going back down the road of what he had been through.

He didn't even notice when his thoughts started to get hazy. Not until sometime later when he woke up to the sound of a loud roar of thunder outside. His eyes fluttered open and he turned his head, seeing Lorne talking with Ronon. It couldn't have been a long nap, to be sure, but it startled Carson that he had slipped away so easily at all.

With a certain amount of effort he managed to sit up, catching the power bar as it slid down his chest. He leaned back against the wall and opened the package tentatively. The first bite was like an explosion of taste to a tongue that hadn't partaken of anything in days. The doctor winced at the flavor, but forced himself to swallow, knowing he needed to get his strength back. About halfway through his stomach denied further access. He wrapped the remainder up and pocketed it.

His little meal was about to be interrupted anyway, it seemed, for there was a medic heading straight towards him, medical kit in hand. She looked surprised to see him sitting. "Hello, Dr. Beckett. Just look at you."

"Aye, lass," he said wanly. "I live on the edge. Are ya here ta torment me?"

She removed a digital thermometer from the bag and aimed for him, saying, "Sure am. You know the drill."

He made a face when she put it in his ear. Still, this was an opportunity to inquire about Sheppard's health. "How is the Colonel?"

He didn't miss the gravity that seemed to appear in her eyes as she drew the temperature gauge back. "He's lost a lot of blood," she confessed, peering into his eyes to search for any bad signs. "Don't worry. They're taking care of him. What about you? Symptoms?"

"Mind blowin' exhaustion, love," he replied dryly. "I'm no' sure how many o'me ills you'll be able ta treat, given the nature of how they came about. Has Colonel Sheppard awakened?"

She shook her head and reached into the medical kit for a vial and a syringe. "Painkillers," she informed him, adding, "You're a bit dehydrated, you know." He grunted. Having sink water as the only thing one could drink in between torture sessions hadn't been the highlight of this particular expedition.

"I better get in there," he decided as he held out his arm for injection.

"Major Lorne said you should rest and I agree with him."

Carson watched the fluid as it drained into him. "Sheppard needs me. I'll be a'right, lass." When she was finished he immediately tried to stand, an attempt that saw him toppling forward.

Gasping, the medic steadied him on his feet and pursed her lips. "Love the kitteny look, Dr. Beckett, but you're going to wear yourself out."

"Aye, perhaps, but I'm goin' nonetheless." He straightened and headed towards the portion of the cave where his friend was being tended, murmuring, "_Kitteny?_" with a sigh.

None impeded his pathway to Colonel Sheppard. Lorne noticed his movement, but said nothing to stop him. His steps were slow and necessarily measured.

It was cold in the cave, cold and dark. He drew his arms around himself as he made his way through shadows to where the medics were gathered around a burden on the floor. Sheppard was white. His eyes were closed, his body shivering ever so noticeably. Carson sidestepped one of the medics and knelt on the floor beside his friend.

Sweat beaded on Sheppard's forehead. Carson took a deep breath and touched the other man's clammy skin, then started when he opened his eyes. A tired, lopsided grin cross the Colonel's features. "They tell me we're screwed," he said, closing his eyes again.

"Aye." Carson watched Sheppard take a deep breath. "Lad, tell me what yer feelin'."

John opened one eye. "Like I been shot, Doc." He took a deep breath. "They gave me morphine, though. Wasn't that nice?"

After a quick look over Carson saw there was nothing he could do that hadn't already been done. "We administered an antibiotic to reduce the risk of infection," one of the medics said to him as he added another cloth to the wound.

"How much blood has he lost?" he asked, looking up. He could still hear the sound of the gunshots in his thoughts.

The medic's reply was serious. "Enough, Doctor. We've got him out of immediate danger, but if we don't get back to the Stargate…"

There was no need to finish that sentence. Beckett glared helplessly at the ground beneath him for a moment. Sheppard watched him. "Don't worry. I still have that free ticket through the rough and tumble, remember?"

"Aye, ya do, son," Carson replied with a wry look. He sighed. "I canna believe we're still stuck here on this bloody rock. I'll no' be goin' offworld again w'ya any time soon, that's for sure."

Sheppard snorted. "Maybe Aerien's still around, ya think?" he suggested wearily, waving his fingers. "He could've…you know…he had control of his own energy, anyway."

The doctor widened his eyes in horror. "Lad! Ya…ya dunna believe that, d'ya?"

"Don't know," John replied, his gaze hazily fixed upon the ceiling as if trying to peer through the drug induced fog. He glanced at Carson with a knit brow. "I'd kick his ass if my own wasn't already kicked." He paused for a minute, then concluded, "And if he wasn't dead."

Carson yawned, John's sleepy meanderings reminding him of his own lack of energy. But he wouldn't sleep while the Colonel was still in danger. Not if he could help it.

In retrospect he supposed leaning against the wall beside Sheppard's head hadn't been the brightest idea in terms of staying alert. Fortunately just as he had started to nod off someone kneeling nearby brought him out of it. He opened his eyes and peered into the face of Major Lorne, whose expression was unlike any he had ever seen on the other man. He was pale, but composed, and his eyes very grave as he reached for John's shoulder. "Colonel Sheppard?"

"He needs rest, lad," Beckett warned gently.

Lorne gazed at him for a long moment, then went back to rousing Sheppard, who awakened after another call of his name. "Going home already?" he asked wearily.

The Major shook his head. "Sir, I've just been given some disturbing news. I have no way of knowing if they're sending a jumper to find us or not."

"Yeah? I'm sure given time…"

"That's just it, Sir." Lorne knit his brow. "We're running out of time. The storm is gaining in momentum and strength, Colonel."

Sheppard let out a deep breath. "Right. So we move to another area and wait it out where it's safe."

Lorne shook his head. "I gave the order to find such a place. It doesn't exist." He glanced at Beckett. "The storm is a planet-wide occurrence. There is nowhere safe, and if Lt. Creedy's projections are correct there isn't going to be an anywhere soon."

"What are we saying, exactly? My head's a bit fuzzy." John shook his head, looking at Carson to see if he understood.

Carson thought he did and all too well. His suspicions were confirmed when the Major said, "Sir, whatever happened while you were here…it's destroying the planet."

"Is there anythin' we can do?" Carson asked softly, his throat and chest suddenly tight. There were people here on this planet.

Lorne shook his head. "It's already happening. There's no stopping it."

* * *

Thanks all! 2 more chapters:-O Glad you've enjoyed so far! 


	15. Moments of Grey

**Dark Element****  
**Moments of Grey

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. Atlantis is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

"Damn it!" Rodney swore viciously. His aching arm he kept cuddled to his chest protectively, while the other hand furiously banged into the terminal as if to knock some sense into the computer it was attached to. If he thought trying to wrestle information from it with two good hands was difficult, well that was nothing. He shook his head with a glare, murmuring, "I hate this machine."

Radek was in the gate room trying to find answers there, and telling Elizabeth the terrifying reality of their situation. Nearby a few marines were standing by in constant assessment of the situation. A nurse hovered near the physicist, trying to get him to remain calm.

How could he remain calm? They were here. His friends were trapped out there.

It was wrong. Completely wrong. The good guy did not die after being tortured to death by the Pegasus galaxy's answer to Dr. Frankenstein. "Not on my watch," he growled, searching the computer for some sort of command that would allow a jumper access to the outside world.

"Dr. McKay?" the medic nearby asked to clarify.

"Nothing," he responded, and then went back to ignoring her presence. He had no time for polite, for calm or anything else for that matter. He had to think.

The ground quaked beneath his feet and wind howled outside. They were running out of time, not only because the world itself was going to be going to Hell in a hand basket any moment, but because the building they were in was in danger of falling apart itself. There was a distinctly uncomfortable crunching of glass that accented his wayward thoughts of the weather. McKay glared through the shadows in the general direction of the noise.

Unfortunately, on top of drawing his busy attention it also reminded his military friends of the dire situation. One of the officers approached. Rodney knew it without even turning around, and so the voice that followed did not startle him when it said, "Dr. McKay, are you close to finding a solution?"

Rodney spared him a withering glance. "_Yes_," he lied blatantly, not in the mood for this foolishness.

"I'm going to have to insist on a quicker pace, Dr. McKay." His response tone suggested he knew the scientist was fudging the truth just a bit. "This place could collapse at any moment.

"Do you think I don't know that?" McKay yelled, wheeling around, throwing his arm up in frustration. "Believe me when I say that no one on the face of this planet and within this universe is more aware of the danger we are in than I am right this moment. Now shut up so that I can do this, okay?"

The soldier held his glare. "Five minutes."

"Five minutes? What is this, some sort of damn test? Dunham, isn't it? Well, Lieutenant Dunham, tell _five_ _minutes_ to the jumper that's going to appear inside a closed gate room! Of course this would be a lot easier if you'd just get some C4…"

"The amount of C4 required to reach the surface would take the Stargate down with it." The other man's voice was firm. "Five minutes."

McKay turned back around as the ground shivered once more. He was not going to get anywhere with this one. The most he could hope for would be to solve this thing before Mr. Nervous dragged him kicking and screaming back to the Stargate. Trust the military to expect even trouble to adhere to a specific timetable.

Five minutes came and went. Behind Rodney the lieutenant left in charge lifted his radio to his mouth. "Dr. Zelenka, have you found any way to open up the gate room?" he asked with that sort of firm finality of the military that got on McKay's nerves.

A few seconds of useless hope passed before Zelenka responded, "I am afraid not. Atlantis sent a jumper through, but so far no doorways have opened in response."

"Have you found anything via command console?"

"Negative." Zelenka sighed over the radio. "Rodney?"

The physicist glared at the marine, knowing what would come after he responded to Radek's question. "I got nothing." There was a crash in the distance. The ground rumbled.

The noises set their fates in stone. "We're out of time, Dr. McKay." The firm gaze of Lt. Dunham met McKay's without wavering, and all the scientist could do was wonder how he was going to convince this guy to let him keep trying.

"We can figure this out," he began, then slammed a fist down on the table when the other man shook his head. "Damn it, that's Sheppard out there! That's Lorne! And you're just going to sell them out?"

"I know what we're losing, McKay," Dunham barked angrily. "And I know we could lose a hell of a lot more if you and Dr. Zelenka happen to die along with them. There's a time to cut losses."

"And this is not one of them!" McKay forced himself to take a breath, trying to approach this with dignity. "Look, okay. Take Radek back to Atlantis. Let me stay here. Then you won't be losing everything."

The marine pointed angrily towards the darkened hallways that shivered from the forces being thrown against them. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, really, I do. I've served proudly on Lorne's team and would gladly die for him, or for Colonel Sheppard. But that doesn't mean I'm going to blind myself to the truth."

"Oh, and what is _that?_" McKay snapped.

The ground rumbled as if in response to the physicist's desperation, throwing all his efforts back into his face. Dunham looked vindicated. "This place is falling apart. Now you stop and ask yourself something. Would Sheppard or Beckett want you to kill yourself on a hopeless mission to save them, or would they want you to go on in spite of their fates? They know Atlantis needs you."

It was a good argument, but McKay had one better. He nodded obligingly. "Right. Sure. They would want me to go on. But I'll tell you something. If I were out there I know damn well they would fight until the very last minute for me. They've proved that many times over already. I owe it to them to keep trying until I think there's absolutely zero possibility of solving this. And right now I don't see that big zero. I'm staying."

"McKay…"

"_Please_."

Dunham looked poised to argue, but unexpectedly Ronon, who had been silent through much of this, stood up from where he had been leaning against the wall. Arms crossed, face set in grim determination, he flanked Rodney's left side. "I don't like this," Dunham said with a thinly veiled glare at the Satedan.

Ronon offered a challenging smile. "You don't have to."

Setting his jaw, the marine nodded in concession. He ignored Ronon completely, turning to face Rodney with a finger pointed. "Bring them back through that Gate if you step through it."

"Will do," McKay replied cynically as the other man and the medic retreated towards the transport rings. The scientist let out a breath and leaned against the console with his one good hand. "God, what the hell have I just done?"

Ronon wandered around to the other side to look him in the face. "You're a good friend," he said simply.

McKay shrugged. "Yeah, or a complete jackass."

He didn't miss the other man's smile. "Could be both."

Rodney shot a glare over the console, then went straight for the keys. There had to be a way to get a jumper through the gate room. More than once he caught himself distractedly what kind of moron would build the complex this way, but then he would think of Aerien and all would become clear again. Still, even Aerien was no fool. Yet there was nothing.

"Okay," he muttered to himself, rapidly brainstorming. "Can't get to them, so how do we bring them to us? Think, McKay." The floor shivered violently and a stream of water began to pour down a wall not twenty feet away. Both men watched in absent fascination as the dim lights shimmered across the surface of the trickle. McKay then looked at Ronon. "We're going to die horrible deaths, you know. You should have gone with Dunham."

The Satedan shook his head. "You might need me."

_Probably not_, McKay thought, but did not say aloud. He could understand why Ronon wanted to remain and wouldn't argue, particularly when he didn't have the time. So he went back to his favorite console, hoping beyond hope something came to him.

Something did. For a moment he blinked, thinking he was wrong, but it became quite clear that he was not. Rodney hovered for a split second, trying to follow his ideas to conclusion. "_Holy…_" he hissed, unable to contain his excitement. "I've got it. God, I'm good."

"McKay," Ronon rumbled, waiting for enlightenment.

The physicist pointed to a scanner lying abandoned on the console, then went rushing the display to conform to his idea. A symbol appeared. "Get that scanner through the transport rings. Go to this symbol and pray our radios hold."

* * *

Rain pelted against his face, a nagging force that kept him blinking. Sheppard showed no indication of his discomfort, however. He had the distinct feeling that being carried through the storm was the least of his worries. In retrospect, he decided he missed the cave. Sure, it had been drafty and it smelled funny, but it had kind of a homey feel to it as potential tombs went.

But the tomb was no more. The more violent the earthen floor trembled, the less stable their hidey-hole became. The rock that slammed down into one of the medics was the clincher.

He could hear Lorne barking something over the thunder, but what it was remained a mystery. Sheppard supposed it didn't matter, really, if they were going to die here. Now, he wasn't a pessimistic man by any means, but it really wasn't looking too good for the little band of Lanteans.

He groaned and shook a little puddle of rain out of his eyes, trying to focus. Where was Carson? John couldn't remember if he had seen him walking or being carried. He couldn't think of much beyond the hear and now.

And just as he had just about given up trying to figure out just when this planet was going to explode, he felt the world fall out from beneath him. There was a curse and the top half of his stretcher crashed to the mud, jarring him hard. Sheppard groped for his wounded shoulder with a cry of anguish as he slid onto the wet ground.

"I'm sorry, Colonel," someone whispers, someone who was flat on the dirt with him. John sat up weakly and looked through the drops streaming down his face into the face of a young marine. The boy was pale and shaken. Most of the green ones were when faced with death.

"I'm all right," Sheppard sighed. He leaned back in the mud for a long moment, trying to will the pain in his shoulder away.

Lorne inserted himself above the Colonel with a concerned expression. "Get the Colonel back on the stretcher," he ordered, shaking his head. "I wish we had a more comfortable mode of transport."

John waved his fingers weakly. "It's okay. Though next time it wouldn't hurt if my pall-bearers were half-naked women instead." He looked at the male marines carrying his stretcher and smiled. "No offense."

The Major grinned at him. "Funny man to the last, huh?"

In a few seconds he was hoisted back into the air. His eyelids seemed to fall of their own volition. "You know me. Where's Carson?"

"He's back there on a stretcher. He's out, but otherwise stable." Lorne moved to motion the caravan onward with a sweep of his hand, but stopped mid-way. John watched the Major gaze at something to the rear of their company. "There's someone coming." He held his P-90 ready.

"Might be one of ours," Sheppard cautioned him.

Lorne nodded in agreement, but remained prudently cautious. Covering his brow to see through the rain, he yelled, "Identify yourself!" to the person Sheppard could now hear slogging through the slick mud.

There was a muffled reply over the raging storm and then Lorne moved away to restate the question. John tried to listen, managing to make out a voice he did not recognize, asking about Teyla and Ronon. The two conversing voices moved closer, until finally Sheppard could see Lorne and an anonymous someone standing with him. Who it was, the Colonel couldn't hazard a guess.

"I tried to get back to the town, warn my people, but I couldn't. There's a huge whirlwind blocking the way. I came to warn Teyla and Ronon, but the Temple was destroyed, so I tracked you here," he was saying.

"It's a local, Colonel," Lorne explained, noting Sheppard's interest. He turned back towards the stranger. "Teyla and Ronon are safe. We could use some shelter, though. Is there anything nearby?"

The local pointed off towards the south without hesitation. "The Mausoleum of the Ancestors isn't too far away. The main chamber opens up under ground, which seems ideal in this situation, don't you think?"

Lorne nodded his head. "Won't argue with that, Mr. Cullen. Lead the way."

The stranger disappeared from Sheppard's view, leaving Lorne, who finished his sweeping gesture. "All right, people, let's move out. Follow after our new friend, here." He glanced down at Sheppard.

"A mausoleum?" John said with a grim smile. "Convenient."

"When this vacation's over, don't say I didn't provide all the basic amenities." The Major smirked and headed off towards the head of the procession.

And so John was back to counting the drops of rain smacking into his skin. The good news was he didn't think he was going to have to remain conscious for it. Sheppard closed his eyes, fully prepared to accept unconsciousness. But it never came. Try as he might, he couldn't let go of his awareness of what was going on. It got fuzzy, but the air was charged and the storm too powerful to ignore.

Even so, it surprised him when they finally stopped again. He hadn't expected the trek to ever end, but it did with the heavy sound of concrete being scraped against concrete. It was then he realized he had dozed off a few times.

The rain's insistent caress stopped in an instant. John opened blinked when the light on several P-90's filled the small stairway they descended. It was only a few steps to comfort at last. Sheppard was lain out on the floor beside Carson, who stirred in response to the sudden hard surface beneath him.

"We aren' dead yet?" he asked raggedly, moving to sit up. With a groan, he put a hand to his forehead and remained halfway between rising and remaining. "Where are we?"

John smirked despite himself. "Mausoleum."

Beckett peered at him from beneath his hand with a hard look, then laid back down. "Oh, good Lord, I'm sorry I woke up." The weary physician made the mistake of looking at what was behind his head, which was the end of a stone coffin. He rolled his eyes and groaned.

"Come on, Doc, at least we're dry."

"When's it gonna be over?"

"Don't be pessimistic." Sheppard offered a grin when the doctor looked at him again. The Colonel drew himself up into a seated position, relying on the coffin at his back to keep him up.

Lorne and a few marines were off exploring the back of the shelter, leaving them with a few to hold the entrance. Across the way John noticed Cullen sitting on the floor. "Why don't you come tell us about how you know Teyla and Ronon, hmm?" he asked politely, more looking to distract himself from the impending doom than anything else.

"Hmm?" Beckett mumbled, looking up. He propped himself on an elbow and watched Cullen move closer.

John nodded towards him. "One of the denizens of this charming planet."

He didn't miss the flinch, nor the distinctly pained look in the doctor's eyes as Cullen sat down. It didn't take much for Sheppard to figure out what Carson was feeling. He was feeling it too. One of the locals. One of the victims of their meddling. Sheppard sighed.

* * *

McKay took a bite of his third power bar. He was starting to realize just how tired he was, how much his arm ached. But he was so close. So freakingly, annoyingly, _God-he-wished-this-was-over_ close. He stood alone in a dying building, listening to the screaming winds and crackling walls with trepidation.

Of course, that was nothing compared to where Ronon was. Apparently he had shown up in a tower on a hill, whose stairs leading to the only exit out had fallen apart due to age and the rumbling of the earth. Shining his light, taking a first step towards the death trap, Ronon had nearly fallen a good twenty feet. Luckily, he had caught himself and was now set about the work McKay had asked of him.

The physicist tapped his radio on. "Are you picking up any signals yet?"

Rainfall and wind sounded across the transmission. "Negative! I saw something briefly about three miles to the south, but they just disappeared. There's no way of telling if it was Sheppard."

"I _know_ that," Rodney muttered impatiently. "Given the circumstances, however, I'd say I'm willing to go on a little faith that it was them and not some crazy band of natives having a picnic out in the middle of Armageddon. Look, can you lock the scanner onto an area approximating where you saw the life signs?"

A few seconds passed. "Yeah. Got it."

McKay rubbed at his temple, excitedly running through the next steps into what he hoped would be a brilliant rescue operation. "Good. Good. Keep it there." He snapped his fingers several times. "Okay, hang on a minute. I'm using the Ancient computer here to tap into the signal of the scanner."

"Would you mind telling me what this is all about? We're…" There was a substantial quake, which forced both McKay and Ronon into silence, trying to maintain their balance. When it was done, Ronon continued, "We're running out of time."

"Quiet a minute." McKay wiggled his fingers impatiently over the console buttons, watching the readout intensely. "Got it! Okay, I need you to come back through the rings. Leave the scanner there, on and locked, as close to the transport pad as you can without the falling rings crushing it."

Within the breadth of a minute Ronon returned to the room with a quiet, curious expression. He peered around McKay. "And this is gonna save them?"

The scientist gave him an irritated glance. "If it doesn't, may I be struck by a falling building. Oh gee. That's what's happening anyway, because you keep nagging me." He went back to the console. "I'm trying to recalibrate the transport rings to function sort of on the same basis as an Asgard transporter in terms of being able to pinpoint a selected target output for the wormhole based on where the scanner is locked. I can open the wormhole between the rings in here and those where you were, and in theory, hopefully use the scanner to sort of bounce the end of the wormhole to where the scanner is locked on, instead of within the space of the rings."

"In theory?"

McKay nodded as he worked. "Everything's a theory until someone tries it." A few tense moments passed. The console before him flashed with his every input, moving towards a goal he had in mind. "There!" He turned to Ronon. "I think it's gonna work."

"You think?"

"My think is not like your think, okay? It's much more accurate and reliable." He waved his hand. "Don't worry. Just get onto the transport pad. If I'm right, you should appear right where the scanner is locked on."

The Satedan hesitated for a second, then moved towards the other side of the room, standing within the eye of the rings. He turned around to watch Rodney, saying, "Hey, McKay."

"What?"

"Don't kill me."

The physicist gave him a reassuring nod, then started the process. The rings descended around his friend and white light engulfed him. Rodney let out a breath. "Good. As for getting them back to here…" He turned towards the console again.

* * *

Somewhere across the room a large, stone statue crashed against the floor. In a state of numbing, cold pain, suffering the effects of his blood loss, Sheppard shivered inwardly at the sound. He simply couldn't afford the energy it would cost to react like Beckett. Thought half-lidded eyes he saw the doctor jump in response to the loud crash. Cullen winced at the noise.

No one got up to see about it, though.

By now even the local was showing signs that he suspected this was the end. He didn't say anything, didn't ask any questions, but John could see it in his eyes with each tremor of the earth.

Across the way Lorne was sitting on one of the large coffins, his gun clutched dejectedly in his hand, lying limp across his lap. Sheppard sighed. Some battles couldn't be won with a weapon. The Major noticed his tired gaze. "How are you feeling, Colonel?"

"Never better," he replied with a smirk. An ominous creaking rumbled in the shadows. He glanced upwards just as a trail of soot from above rained down on his legs. There was a large crack directly above where he, Carson and Cullen were congregated. "That has me a bit worried, though."

Another quake shook the mausoleum, followed by a loud banging noise towards the exit to the outside world. The quakes weren't stopping right away anymore. John groaned, the tremors making him feel nauseous. Somewhere nearby he could hear someone else reacting to his nausea, but he suspected it had more to do with impending doom than any physical ailment.

A chuck of ceiling fell to the floor between Sheppard and Lorne. The Major moved his eyes across the stone, on up to share a grave look. "I think we've got enough bullets," he suggested in low tones.

Sheppard nodded once. "Got a hand gun?" Lorne pulled one from a holster against his thigh and tossed it down into the Colonel's hands.

"Wait a minute," Carson broke in. "What exactly are we talkin' 'bout, here?" He asked the question, but looking into his face Sheppard suspected he knew the answer.

"Come on, Doc. Think about it. This ceiling is about to come down on us." Sheppard didn't like to suggest it to the doctor, his friend, whose life's work was to do no harm and who was generally a sensitive type.

He could see it reflected in those blue eyes, too. The fight between sanctity of life and quality of life. Should they go out with minimal pain or fight tooth and nail for every last minute of life? Carson ran a trembling hand through his hair. "I…I can' do that. I don'…I just…" He looked shaken.

John felt it. As a trained military man he had confronted the idea of death many times, but no matter how much a man does that he is never truly prepared for it to happen. Sheppard swallowed, trying to think of how to word his reply. In the end there was no delicate way to put it. "You want me to…?"

Carson widened his eyes, going pale as he shook his head before John could finish. "Lad, I…we can' be talkin' 'bout this."

Another stone hit the floor behind Lorne, who jumped up off the coffin and saw the debris not a foot behind him. He stared for a moment, then whirled when another piece of the ceiling cracked, sending a barrage of rocks into one of the marines nearby. He collapsed under the heavy weight, his flashlight forever doused by a crushing blow. It shot across the floor and slammed into the coffin at Sheppard's back.

His eyes were focused on that face, though. Tucker was a young man with a sly wit. He convulsed under the weight of the stones covering him, his brown eyes searching Lorne's as he reached up for help. Blood trickled from a wound in his forehead.

"Unfortunately, Doc, we don't have a choice," Sheppard told him in a forced tone. He swallowed and turned towards his friend. "That's gonna be us. Lorne tried to raise anyone over the radio. It's dead. There's not going to be a rescue."

Carson watched him with stricken eyes, as if unable to believe what he was hearing. "I never…I never thought about…" he mumbled, working his way through it.

Sheppard could remember feeling the same way the first time his drill sergeant had brought this up. "Yeah, I know. Who wants to?" He looked at the gun in his hand. "I won't make you do anything, Carson. I just need to know. Do you want me to make it easy on you?"

"Lad," the doctor replied in husky tones, his eyes watering. "What's easy about any o'this?"

"Nothing, really." John let out a weary breath. "We usually carry around pills. I'd give you mine, but Aerien took my jacket. I'm sorry, Carson."

Beckett said nothing, looking at the floor. A gunshot rang out, causing him to flinch. John didn't look over at where Tucker had been struck down. He didn't have to. Lorne was already moving back to where he had been seated before, his face drawn and white. Cullen had moved far away from any of them, clearly horrified by what he was hearing.

John fingered the gun in his hand, knowing he should be thinking about this problem, trying to figure out how to make it easier on his friends. But he just couldn't think at all. The ground shook and more stones rained down all around them.

The weight of a hand on his shoulder drew Sheppard out of his mindless reverie. He looked into Carson's crystalline eyes with a knot in his stomach as the doctor said, "I canna do it meself, lad. Lord, I don' know what ta do. This is unreal. I'm askin' my friend ta shoot me!"

"Are you?"

"Eager, are ye?" The doctor was joking, using it to cover the fear that caused his voice to shake. He gave Sheppard's shoulder a squeeze to show it when neither of them could crack a grin at the jest. The other half of the mausoleum collapsed in that instant, causing the remaining marines on the other side of the room to scurry away from the rubble. Beckett took a shuddering breath. "A'right, Lad. I trust ya."

Sheppard felt his pulse rise at those words. He looked up to make sure Carson looked like he knew what was doing. It frightened him to think he did. This was so insane, so unbelievably stupid. He shouldn't have to do this.

Carson didn't close his eyes. John could see that trust mirror back at him, which almost caused him to falter as he raised the gun. His friend looked breathless as the weapon met his temple, his chest rising fast and his fists clenched hard. Sheppard fingered the trigger, trying to make himself do this, thinking of Tucker, knowing he didn't want to see his friend suffer a death like that.

A loud scraping noise from the head of the room offered up the distraction his soul so desperately wanted. John looked up even as Lorne rushed the door, his P-90 aimed and ready for whatever enemy may be barging into the solemn party. Sheppard's heart pounded in his throat as what he was doing started to sink in.

The gun hit the floor with a metallic clatter when he laid eyes on Ronon. The Satedan rushed in from the blustery weather outside, yelling, "We have to get outside now! McKay's got a way to get us back!"

John let out the breath he hadn't even known he was holding. He glanced at Carson, who sat shaking, all color gone from his face. "Carson…" he said, not sure what he had meant to follow that with.

The doctor reached for his forearm, gave it a pat. "It's a'right, lad." Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back as if the last of his strength had just bled out of him. "We might jus' make it through after all."

"Yeah," John agreed with a grunt as Ronon knelt in front of him. He looked up at the bit warrior gratefully. "You don't know how glad I am to see you. You don't know."

The Satedan smiled. "Don't tell me you doubted we'd find a way to rescue you."

The Colonel let out a nervous laugh. "No. Not for a second."


	16. Epilogue: Spark

**Dark Element****  
**Spark

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. Atlantis is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

* * *

A weight on the other end of the bed told Carson Beckett that he was not alone. Not that he planned on being such any time soon, given that it seemed for all intents and purposes his new place of residence was the infirmary. He and John were becoming the favorite patients around here, what with his weakness and the Colonel's extended leave to recover from the gun shot wound he had suffered. But Beckett wasn't entirely certain he was up for company just yet. His head still spun and nauseated him. And so he remained still, lying on his side, faced away and pretending to sleep as he listened. 

"Oh, come on Rodney," said the voice from the next bed. Sheppard sounded much stronger today. He had slept nearly the whole first day and night back on Atlantis, and had sounded pleasantly fuzzy for a few days afterward, which was in part due to the pain medications as well as the weakness.

There was a movement on the other end of Carson's bed, suggesting it was McKay that was sitting there beside his feet. "I'm not talking to _you_. _You_ tried to shoot Carson." The doctor rolled his eyes, but did not say anything.

"Yeah? Well if it makes you feel any better, I had to imagine he was you to even lift the gun," Sheppard growled irritably. "You really know instinctively what _not_ to say and how to just go ahead and say it, don't you?"

"Alright, alright, alright!" Beckett could feel his scientist friend kicking his feet back and forth, jarring the bed. "I'm sorry. It's just this whole situation. I just…"

There was a sigh from across the way. It seemed to carry with it all the feelings Carson felt within. "I know. It feels weird to be home, doesn't it? I keep expecting _something_, but I don't know what."

"Not to mention the friggen nightmares." McKay grunted, then knocked the back of his hand against Carson's foot. "You can stop pretending you're asleep, Carson."

With pursed lips and an annoyed expression, Beckett turned to lie on his back. He frowned at Rodney. "An' jus' how did ya know I was pretendin'?"

The scientist grinned slyly. "You just told me." He smirked as Carson kicked him in the leg, trying to knock him off the bed. "Look, Sheppard tells me you've been quiet these past few days. Well, there's only so long I'm gonna let that go on before I feel obligated to come and bother you."

"Job done," Beckett said through a yawn, leaning his head back on his pillow. "If ya were a true friend ya'd have brought me some ice cream. How's yer arm?"

"My arm hurts like hell, but it's healing up fine." Rodney waved his finger. "As for the ice cream, see that's the trade off. First you talk to me and then I'll bring you ice cream. Deal?"

Carson rolled his eyes, turned towards Sheppard. "Ya put him up ta this?"

"What, and actively try to get Rodney _here?_ I have to share this little space with you, you know." The colonel laughed as McKay awarded him a dirty look. He folded his hands behind his head. "Gonna tell him, Rodney?"

A sudden look of discomfort crossed McKay's features. He rubbed the back of his neck in that way he did when he didn't want to tell you something. Carson suspected what it was, anyway. He had heard Lorne talk to Sheppard about sending a team through a gate neighboring the planet they had been stranded on, to see if anything of the planet remained. Somehow Carson thought he had an idea of what they would find.

Rodney shrugged, deciding to just get it out in the open. "Lorne went back through a gate near the planet we were on. Oh, ah it had a name, incidentally. Cullen says the Ancient's called it 'Saeculora'. Creepy, huh?" He let out a breath. "Well, there's nothing left of it. So I figure that means there's no chance in Hell anyone's going to find Aerien's work, now. And the universe heaved a collective sigh of relief, huh?"

The news was good in that respect, and so Carson nodded his agreement, which seemed to brighten his friend's face. The doctor closed his eyes, letting himself rest a moment in the secure knowledge that all Aerien's files and journals had been destroyed, forever out of the reach of any other that might try to take up where he had left off.

But the relief did not wash all Carson's ills away. "Where is Cullen now?" he asked softly, without opening his eyes.

He could almost see Rodney shrug. "With the Athosians. I think John's gun happy show freaked him out and he wanted to be with a people more like his own."

Sheppard tossed a wadded paper at McKay, hissing, "Would you shut up about that? Don't make me bring up the kiss."

Carson winced, and at the same time he and Rodney groaned in disgust. McKay rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I guess despite his interest in science he wasn't prepared for all the choices being scientifically advanced brings a society. Kinda makes you feel warm inside, don't it?"

"No," Beckett replied moodily, drawing his sheet over his shoulders and snuggling down as if it would hide him.

"Aw, come on, don't turn away." Rodney tossed the paper wad at Carson's head and it bounced off his hair, then hit the floor. The doctor opened his eyes to glare at him, but his friend's serious expression stayed his irritation. "Come on. Please?"

"I happen ya be tired and in need of rest," he informed the two of them. They both wore familiar expressions of friendly camaraderie, but he could see concern written in both sets of eyes. "A'right, I'm up."

"How ya feeling?" Sheppard asked him tentatively. He had tried a few times in the past few days, met with evasion each time. Perhaps with McKay here he figured Carson had no escape this time.

Carson shrugged with his typical answer. "Fine."

"Fine my ass," Rodney countered. He crossed his arms after nudging the doctor's calf. "You can't keep this all in."

"Why not?"

McKay gaped a minute. "Duh. Psychological damage ring a bell? He hurt you the worst, and believe me, as much as I'd rather not have you telling me even a tenth about your…your _feeling, _I won't let you sit around with it eating you inside, either."

Carson's eyes narrowed. "Dr. Heightmeyer put ya up ta this, then, didn't she?" The slightly guilty look in his friend's eyes told much. This was ridiculous. He was a doctor, trained through years of medical school. He didn't need to be told how to take care of himself. Yes, maybe he hadn't exactly said much when she asked he and John to talk about their experiences, but this went too far.

"Come on, Doc," Sheppard prodded. "You won't talk to her, then talk to us."

The doctor rolled onto his side, once again facing away from them and their worried stares. "I'm no' ready ta talk about any o'it, an' I'll thank ya ta let me be," he said a little too harshly.

The injured silence caused Carson to close his suddenly wet eyes. So they wanted to hear, did they? They wanted to hear about how damaged he felt, like a part of him was lost and left behind an empty void? They wanted to hear about how every time he fell asleep he saw images of pain and torment, felt the suffering of an entire universe weighing on his shoulders, wanted to listen as he told them about how close Aerien had come to the mark when he had spoken of how afraid Carson was of the darkness he was letting in, causing him to do things like create the retrovirus? He knew the responsibility of healing the universe was not his and he knew that these mistakes he had made were not intentional, so what more could Heightmeyer say? What more could either McKay or Sheppard say?

Nothing was going to heal his wounds except time.

"Chocolate or Vanilla?"

McKay's voice called Carson out of his tragic reveries. He opened his eyes and gazed across the shadowy infirmary at the wall, saying, "W-what?" He hadn't expected that.

Rodney leaned back, trying to look at him. "You said you wanted ice cream. Chocolate or Vanilla?"

For a long moment the doctor lay there, blinking as the salt within his eyes stung him, trying to make sense of the emotions swirling around inside. Whatever Heightmeyer wanted him to say, his friends were still only trying to help, still worried and trying to do whatever it took to heal what he himself couldn't seem to. He let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. "I'm afraid."

"Of what?" Sheppard asked him gently.

Carson didn't turn around. "That Aerien's still out there in some form. That even if he's not, there's a hundred more just like him waiting to do these things ta others, ta me. And most of all I'm afraid he was right about me." It felt like poison being drawn out of him, harsh and venomous against soft flesh. Beckett tightened his fists, trying to stay the pain.

He felt Rodney's weight shift off the bed. "So we prove him wrong. _You_ prove him wrong by being who you are, overcoming it. Then you'll know what I know. He was wrong about everything, including you."

"Yeah," John agreed, sounding for the entire world as if he were confident. Carson wondered how they could sound so sure of things he constantly second-guessed about himself, again and again, like a torturous circle. Sheppard's voice took on a firm tone. "Remember I ordered you not to let him convince you of those lies. I told you I'd enforce that."

"I'm no' military," Carson reminded him again, a pale smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You don't have to be." And that was that according to John Sheppard, who stretched expansively and said, "I'll take chocolate, Rodney. A double."

"Whatever."

As the footsteps began to retreat, Carson looked back up, calling, "Rodney?"

His friend stopped his trek and turned. "Yeah?"

Carson gave him a grateful look, then said, "Vanilla."

McKay waved his arm dismissively, heading back out of the infirmary. "Next time I get to be the one beaten half out of my mind so that you two can be _my_ waiters."

He disappeared and Beckett leaned his head back, gazing at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on the idea of soft, sweet vanilla making its way to him. Try and he might he just couldn't rid himself of the nagging feelings hovering at the back of his thoughts. But Sheppard was sure going to try and help him, he discovered, when after a moment he said, "Okay, I've got a game for us to play while we're waiting. It's called 'Let's Annoy McKay'. The rules are simple, see, all we gotta do is think up awesome ways to get on Rodney's nerves. Sounds like fun, right?"

Carson turned with a half-smile. "Aye, lad. You go first. And John…"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

The Colonel nodded once. ""No problem, Doc. Okay, let's see. I got one, okay, when he's in bed we sneak into his office…"

* * *

The End! Thanks for reading+gives out huggles and cookies in the shape of the Stargate crew+ Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing. :-) 


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